Gio Dragonsbane
by Black Hole Son
Summary: Gio Dragonsbane. That's all he has; a name. Gio awoke to a world that wanted his head from the start. He awoke to the world a man with no past, no future, only the present. But that present has given him a future in the most unlikely of ways: saved by a dragon, only to be fated to be their greatest foe: the Dragonborn, swallower of souls.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer_: I **_DO NOT_** own the gaming franchise Elder Scrolls by Bethesda Game Studios nor am in any way associated with them or their affiliates other than through the purchasing of their products.

_Author's Note_: Off the bat I have to say: apologies to any fans of my Frost Emblem series, for I was forced to tear it down due to it violating certain policies on . However, despair not, for I do intend on remaking it under the title Frost Emblem: Re-Animation, but it may be some time as I have to now completely redo most of my story's plot. While I work on that, I decided to start this new Fic called Gio Dragonsbane. It's based off the game for PS3/Xbox 360/PC called Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, but will have some major differences, including a little less dungeon-crawling and fewer miscellaneous quests that my heroes will be going on (not to mention the hero himself, who (spoiler alert) isn't even of one of the races found in Skyrim). So, enjoy, leave a Review, Favorite, Follow, and if you haven't already, check out my Fic which is gaining popularity almost as fast as Frost Emblem was (if not faster) called Fossil Fighters II.

**Chapter 1: Salvation**

I opened my eyes slowly, awakened by the feeling of being jostled around wildly. My vision was bleary, and my body felt weak and numb. I tried to rub my eyes, but found my hands to be roped together.

"Are you awake?" a baritone man's voice said.

My vision cleared, and I could see a bulky man sitting just across from me. He was wearing leather armor died blue, and his light hair fell down just past his shoulders. He was handsome, but I wouldn't say that he had chiseled marble features; more like he'd been hammered out of granite.

I looked around. I was sitting in the back of a wagon, along with the blonde man and two other men. One of them wore similar clothing to the one who'd spoken and also appeared slightly similar, but the other one was scrawny and wore only rags. All of us had our hands bound with ropes.

"Where are we?" I asked hazily in a voice that wasn't quite as deep as the other man's, but it had its own power.

"In the back of an Imperial prison wagon," the man said. "We're prisoners of war."

"I shouldn't even be here!" the scrawny man cried out. "If it weren't for you damned Stormcloaks, I'd've stolen a horse and been halfway to the border by now. Empire was nice and lazy before you showed up."

"Shut up back there," the driver of the wagon said, his accent different from either one of the men's. He was wearing leather armor similar to the two broad men sitting in the back of the wagon with me, but in red.

The two men went silent for a minute, and I looked around. We were headed down a dirt road, with one wagon in front of us and another behind, both of which were filled with other prisoners. The scenery was nice, with tall pine trees lining the road and the occasional fox or deer running about. But, somehow, it felt like the last thing I'd ever see. As if we were headed to our ends.

"What's this guy's problem?" the thief said, nodding towards the man who sat next to me and across from him. He had a cloth muzzle on, and was glowering menacingly at nothing in particular.

"Watch your tongue!" the man across from me scolded. "You speak to Ulfric Stormcloak, true High King of Skyrim."

"Ulfric? Jarl of Windhelm? Leader of the Stormcloaks?"" the thief stuttered. "But if he's here— Oh, gods, where are they taking us?!"

The bulkier man said nothing.

After another minute, he said, "Where do you hale from, horse thief?"

"What's it matter to you, Stormcloak?" he challenged.

"A true Nord's last thoughts should be of home."

"I'm from Rorikstead."

He looked across at me. "What about you? I doubt I'll recognize the name, however. You're the one that was caught crossing the border into Skyrim, were you not? Aye, you have the look of a foreigner, you do. What's your name?"

"Gio," I said. "Gio Dragonsbane."

As I thought about it, that was all that I knew about myself. My name. When I tried to think of what or where my hometown might be, nothing came to mind. I couldn't even guess what my hair or eye color was.

"Gio…Dragonsbane? That's definitely not a Nord name, and if it was Imperial, you wouldn't be here with us now would you?"

I gave no reply.

Up ahead, a wooden stockade wall was coming into view. Its gates were hanging wide open, and several soldiers dressed similarly to the wagon drivers stood protectively along the tops of the walls and at the gates.

"General Tullius," I heard one of the soldiers saying. "The headsman is waiting."

"Headsman?" I heard the horse thief say fearfully. "Gods, what do they intend to do with us? Oh, Divines, help me!"

"General Tullius, the militant leader of the Imperials," the bulky man scoffed. "And it looks like the Thalmor are with him. Damned elves…"

He paused, taking a deep sniff from the air.

"Ah," he said wistfully. "This is Helgen. I used to be sweet on a pretty Imperial lass from here. I wander if Velod still makes that mead with juniper berries." He looked around at the stone and wood walls. "Funny. When I was a boy, Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel safe. But now…"

"Who are they?" I heard a boy's voice ask behind me.

"Get inside the house," a man told him.

"But I wanna watch the soldiers—"

"In the house. Now!"

The wagon clambered down the road a few more meters before coming to a halt in a square. Several people—ordinary villagers and soldiers alike—had gathered around, watching us. I noticed a black, wolfish dog sitting far away from the people as well, watching intently as they.

"Why are we stopping?" the horse thief stammered.

"Why do you think?" the other man said. "It's the end of the line." He looked over at me. "Come on; we shouldn't keep the gods waiting."

One of the soldiers ushered us off the back of the wagon, lining us up before two other soldiers who appeared slightly higher in rank. There was woman, wearing iron as well as red leather with a sword belted at her hip, and a man who wore no helmet that was looking over a list.

"Wait, I'm not a rebel!" the thief said. "Please, you have to tell them that I'm not with you!"

"Face your death with some honor, horse thief."

"Step to the block as we call your names, one at a time," the woman officer said.

"Empire loves their damned lists," the bulky man mumbled, standing behind me.

After glancing at his list, the male officer said, "Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm."

"It has been an honor, Jarl," the man behind me said earnestly as the muzzled man walked towards the block where prisoners from the other wagons were gathering at already.

"Ralof of Riverwood," the officer called.

Wordlessly, the man standing behind me followed after Ulfric.

"Lokir of Rorikstead."

"No, I'm not a rebel!" the horse thief insisted, stumbling towards the officers.

"Step to the block, prisoner," the woman officer ordered.

"No, you're not going to kill me!" Lokir said.

He dashed forward, shoving past the two soldiers and sprinting recklessly down the dirt road.

"Archers!" the woman officer ordered as she recovered. Before Lokir the horse thief even made it ten meters, he was made to resemble the world's largest pincushion.

"Anymore of you bastards feel like running?" the officer asked.

Shaking his head, the male soldier turned back to his list, when he seemed to notice me for the first time.

"You there, step forward," he said.

Wordlessly, I complied.

"Who are you?" he said questioningly. "Raven black hair, moon white skin… You don't resemble any of the races of Skyrim."

"Of course not," the woman said. "He's the one we picked up crossing the border into Skyrim."

"Crossing the border _into_ Skyrim? I don't see why anyone would want to come to Skyrim during these dark days." He looked carefully over me. "Well, what do we do with him?"

"He's here now. We might as well send him to the block as well. Better he die here with dignity than out in the wilds to be eaten alive by wolves."

"By your orders, Captain," the man said. Then, to me, "Forgive me, friend. Might you tell us where you hale from, so we may return your remains?"

"No," I said. "I have no memories of who I am or where I am from. All I have is a name."

"A name? And what might that be?"

"Gio Dragonsbane."

The man looked to his captain questioningly. "I don't recognize the origins of that name; do you?"

"It doesn't matter. We'll just give him a funeral here."

"Forgive me," the man said to me. "I hope you find solace in Sovengard. Follow the Captain, prisoner."

The woman officer started towards the block, and I followed behind her without complaint. I was a man of no past, no future; what did it matter if I died at the present?

I stopped beside Ralof, who stood behind the muzzled Ulfric, but the Captain continued forward to stand before all of us along with a clergywoman and an executioner wearing a leather mask and bearing a heavy axe. There were several other soldiers as well, and a man astride a charger and wearing heavy armor. I recognized him as the man that everyone was referring to as General Tullius.

"General Tullius, the prisoners are all ready," the man who'd been reading off the list said.

Tullius was too focused on Ulfric to regard the soldier's comment.

"Ulfric Stormcloak," he said accusingly. "Many people across Skyrim would call you a hero; but heroes don't abuse the power of the Voice to murder their king and usurp his throne!"

Ulfric growled through his muzzle, scowling at the general.

"It was your barbaric actions that started this civil war and has caused so much strife amongst the races of Skyrim. Now the Empire is going to put you down like the dog you are and restore the peace!"

He started to say more, but was caught off by an odd sound in the distance. It was like some sort of a roar, but it was nothing that my limited memory could place. It was like the hunting cry of an eagle, crossed with the powerful shout of a lion and the trumpeting of a fanfare.

"What was that?" soldiers, prisoners, and villagers alike murmured.

"Probably an avalanche," one of the soldiers said unconvincingly.

"Let us carry on," Tullius said, though his tone suggested that he had more to say.

"Of course, General Tullius!" the Captain said. "Give them their last rights."

The clergywoman opened a tome and began reading from it. It was some babble about the "Eight Divines" and "the afterlife," which didn't take much more than a few words for me to lose interest in.

"For the love of Talos, shut up and get this over with!" one of the prisoners said, stepping up to the block.

"As you wish," the clergywoman said indignantly, closing her book and walking away.

"Come on!" the prisoner said in annoyance. "I'ven't got all morning!"

Without ceremony, the Captain pushed him down to his knees and pressed her boot on his back, forcing his neck into a slot in the stone block he was bowed before. The headsman aligned his axe to the man's neck before drawing it back and swinging it heavily down, cleaving the man's head from his shoulders in one clean strike with a spray of blood. With no regard to the man's corpse, the Captain kicked his body aside.

The response from the villagers was mixed, with variations of "You Imperial bastards!" to "Death to the Stormcloaks!" and other more disgusted noises.

"As fearless in death as in life," Ralof said ruefully, looking at the headless corpse.

"Next—you, foreigner!" the Captain said, pointing to me.

I started forward, but stopped when another trumpeting roar sounded off, even louder, or perhaps closer, than the last one.

"Did you hear that?" one of the prisoners said.

"I said next prisoner," the Captain said, acting as though she hadn't heard it at all.

"To the block, Gio," the soldier who'd been reading off the list said.

Without anymore delay, I walked over to the stone block, turning to face it. I didn't give the Captain the chance to shove me to my knees as I bowed down to the stone by my own will.

The executioner drew back his axe, much more hesitant with me than he'd been with the last man. As he raised his weapon of death, another roar, definitely closer than the previous two, thundered down from the clouds, and I caught sight of an immense, dark shape darting across the sky before vanishing behind the tower that we were before.

"What in Oblivion—?" I heard a man cry out in awe.

"Sentries, what is it?!" I heard the Captain call out, seeming frightened.

The executioner gave no regard to his surroundings as he finished drawing back his axe. Just as he was about to swing it don on the back of my neck, the dark creature reappeared, landing on top of the tower heavily enough to knock the executioner over.

"Dragon!" I heard a woman call, and I could hear the sound of swords being drawn from scabbards.

It let out a roar powerful enough to literally rend the skies, a shockwave blasting out from its mouth and blasting everything before it.

I was sent tumbling from the force of the roar, my vision blurry and my ears ringing. I could feel someone shaking me, and I saw Ralof standing above me.

"Come on, we need to go!" he was saying. I noticed that his hands were unbound, unlike mine. "The guards won't give us another chance, and we'll be killed if we stay out in the open like this! Follow me!"

He started toward a different tower, and I followed after him. Looking over my shoulder, I could see the black-scaled monstrosity. Its wings even when folded were great sales that blotted out the sun, and its spiked tail drooped all the way from the top of the tower to the ground. It was loosing firebreath and shockwaves all over, killing anyone caught in the attacks' wake instantly.

I dived into the tower after the light haired man, who quickly slammed shut a heavy wooden door behind us.

"Jarl Ulfric, what is that thing?!" I heard Ralof saying. "The legends…could they be true?"

"Legends don't burn down villages," a new voice that I didn't recognize said, one that hid immense power within it.

I turned and saw Ulfric standing before Ralof, untied and unmuzzled. His hair was slightly darker than Ralof's, and he was by far bigger than he was, but they were still racially similar.

We weren't the only one's hiding within the tower. There were several others, but most of them were severely injured with charred-black skin and mangled limbs and wounds that bled profusely. All of them were quivering and crying out in pain.

"We need to move," Ralof said. "You, foreigner, come with me, up the tower! We need to find a way out of here!"

Not seeing any other options, I complied, following after the man with my hands still bound up a winding staircase.

Just as we made it to a landing, the wall was blown in, the dragon's head appearing inside the tower and blasting flames all over. Ralof and I were forced to hug ourselves against the wall to avoid being burned to a crisp.

The dragon flew away again, and Ralof looked through opening.

"We need to get over there," he said, pointing to a house next to the tower with a large segment of its roof missing. It was a good five meters below us. "You jump; the rest of us will follow when we can. Go, go!"

Not waiting for anymore invitation, I stepped back a little bit to give myself a running start before jumping out through the opening, landing neatly inside the house, rolling to reduce the impact. I continued forward, finding an opening in the floor boards and jumping down to the ground level.

"Get over here, boy!" I heard a soldier ahead of me calling to a child. It was the same soldier who'd been reading off the list.

The boy ran over to the soldier just as the dragon landed on the ground, loosing its firebreath. The boy, as well as I, just made it to cover in time. The dragon didn't stick around long enough to finish us off, taking off to ravage some other part of the village.

"Still alive, Gio?" he asked me. "Stay close to me if you want to stay that way!" He turned to face the other soldier that was with him. "Gunner, get the boy to safety! I'll get the prisoner out of here."

"Godspeed, Hadver," the soldier said.

Without further ado, the soldier started down the road with me in tow. We followed a low stone wall, hugging it close by his order. It was fortunate that we'd done so, as the dragon suddenly landed atop the wall directly above us, loosing a jet of flames. At the close quarters, it almost sounded to me as though its cries were some warbled language.

"Come on!" Hadver ordered, rushing towards a ruined building. "We're almost to the keep!"

We continued through the ruins to another square where several soldiers had gathered. They were all firing arrows at the dragon, and some of them even flames from the palms of their hands, but they weren't doing anything to the beast.

We made way to a second wall, dashing through an overhang and before a small fortress. We started for an entrance to the keep, but were stopped short as Ralof stepped in our path.

"Ralof! Come with us!" Hadver said to the larger man.

"Not a chance, Hadver," Ralof said. "We're getting out of here, and we're not going to let you Imperials capture us again!"

"Whatever, I hope that dragon takes all of you to Sovengard! With me prisoner!"

"Follow me, foreigner," Ralof called in contradiction.

I was left standing there, unsure of whom to go to. I felt that this was a bigger decision than I could know, but couldn't understand why. Suddenly, the dragon landed directly in front of me, its black maw only inches from my face. At the close proximity, I could definitely make out its growls to be some foreign language. In any case, it was blocking my path to Hadver, and I accepted it as fate's decision that I follow Ralof.

I dived after Ralof, narrowly avoiding being snapped up by the dragon. He opened the great door to the keep just wide enough for me to slip through before slamming it shut and barring it off.

"However it is that we're getting out of here," he said, "it's not going to be through there."

We went further into the keep, where we entered a round room with two barred off passages. At the back of the small room was a man dressed similarly to Ralof lying dead on the ground.

Ralof bowed before the corpse, saying, "We'll meet again in the afterlife, brother."

Standing back up, he turned to face me.

"Looks like we're the only ones who made it," he said, panting. "That thing out there was a dragon, no doubt about it. A harbinger of the End Times. We'd better get moving, if we intend on living another day. Come here; let me get those bindings off."

I stepped toward him, and he produced a knife. With one slice he cut the ropes that bound my hands together, and I rolled my wrists that were newly freed but still feeling stiff. They were a little red and I had rope burn from the restraints, but I'd live.

"You may as well take Gunjar's axe and armor," he said. "He won't be needing it, and you're dressed only in rags."

Ralof went over to one of the passages, checking the iron door that blocked it off while I got to work undressing the fallen man. I picked up his war axe first, giving it a couple swings. It felt like a powerful weapon, but was top heavy, and without something to hold in my left hand it felt imbalanced. I tried holding it in two hands, but the shaft was short and the palm of my hand was ground into the weapon's pommel. It'd have to do.

"This one is locked," Ralof stated. "Let me try the other."

He switched to the other side of the room but came to the same results with that door.

"Great," he cursed. "We're trapped in here."

"What do we do now?" I asked, standing up from the fallen rebel soldier. I was still only in rags, but it didn't matter if there was nothing for us to fight.

Ralof started to say something, but stopped as the sound of someone talking loudly could be heard down the hall of the passage he was currently investigating.

"Imperial troops!" Ralof hissed. "Take cover. Maybe we can catch them off guard."

We took cover against the walls on either side of the gate, our axes at the ready. I suddenly felt foolish wearing only rags and no armor, but there was no time to change now.

"Get this damned gate open," a familiar woman's voice ordered.

"Yes, Captain," said a man.

I could hear a switch being thrown, and the gate started to slide up into the ceiling. Holding my breath, I readied myself to pounce on whoever stepped through the passageway.

Raw instinct took over as I saw two red clad soldiers step through. I swung my axe berserkly, its iron biting into the flesh of the woman officer from before. I downed her with one strike, as Ralof did to the man that accompanied her. My breath caught as I thought I recognized Hadver to be the fallen man, but I almost sighed from relief when I realized it was some other man.

"Come on, help me search their bodies," Ralof said. "One of them has to have a key."

Ralof started searching the man's body, leaving me to awkwardly search the woman. I felt like a necrophiliac, groping her body in search of the key, but forgot all about that when I found a skeleton key strung on her hip.

"Ah, you've found the key," Ralof said in relief. "Here, let me see it. I'll unlock the door."

He made a move to retrieve the key from my hand, but I pulled it away from him, leaving him to look at me in confusion.

"What is it that these Imperials did?" I asked.

"What is this?" Ralof asked.

"I want to know why it is that I should trust you and these Stormcloaks over the Imperials," I said firmly. "I don't have a clue about either one of you two, but listening to what they had to say about your great Ulfric, it sounds to me like you Stormcloaks are the wrong side."

"I can explain it later," Ralof insisted. "But while we have this dragon bearing down on us, we can only focus on one thing, and that's to keep moving forward. Now put some armor on and give me that key."

He swiped at it a second time, and this time I allowed him to take it.

While he set to work on the door, I put on Gunjar's cuirass. I considered taking his boots as well, but the Imperial man's leather ones seemed more sturdy than his fur, and I put those on along with the Imperial's arm bracers. I considered taking his helmet, but decided it would only be a hindrance. I took both of their swords and a dagger from the officer, leaving the bulky axe behind. Somehow, a longsword in either hand just felt right. I almost put on his studded leather armor as well, but Ralof said that it would make me look too much like an Imperial and might give any Stormcloaks already inside the wrong idea.

"If you're done," Ralof said as I finished straightening my armor, "we should get moving."

He unlocked the door, leading the way down the hall. We forced to stop however when the ceiling caved in right in front of us.

"Damn dragon's not giving up easily," Ralof said. "Come on, this way."

He opened up a door in the hall, leading into some sort of a break room.

"Grab everything important and let's move," someone said.

"Imperials!" Ralof spat as he spotted two red clad men rummaging through some barrels inside the room.

"Down with Ulfric!" one of them shouted as they drew their swords. Ralof produced his war axe, and I drew my dual blades.

I made it to the men before Ralof, getting first dibs on whom to fight. This time, I took on the inferior soldier while Ralof handled the officer. It turned out that I should've taken the more experienced one, as I twirled my blades, hacking and slashing through the defenseless young soldier while Ralof struggled just to parry his opponent's blows. Seizing the opportunity, I thrust my blade through the officer's back at the same time that I stuck my other blade in the young soldier's throat.

"You're pretty good with the blade," Ralof complimented. He looked around the room. "This seems to be some sort of storeroom. Look around and see if you can't find any sorts of potions. We may need them." He reached down to the fallen Imperials, untying coin purses from their corpses. "Here; your kill, your gold."

He tossed the purses to me and I deftly caught them. I didn't like the feeling of using blood money, but no doubt it would spend just the same as regular gold.

Ralof and I set to work quickly searching the room. We managed to come up with some potions that were colored red, blue, and green, Ralof informing me that they would heal my injuries, restore my magicka, and replenish my energy, respectively. I also came up with some salt and goat cheese and bread, which I would save for eating later.

"Ready? Let's get moving," the Stormcloak said, opening up a different door.

We started down the corridor, now on the other side of the caved-in hall. Ralof prompted me to pick up the pace at the sound of conflict further down the hall.

"Troll's blood," he cursed as we came into a new room. "It's a torture room!"

Inside the room, there were already three Stormcloaks fighting with three Imperials. One of the Imperials was shooting blue energy bolts from his hands, a truly intimidating sight, but not so much so as the headsman and his battle axe that was pushing through a war hammer-wielding Stormcloak defenses with furious attacks.

Ralof backed up the Stormcloak fighting the spell caster while I leant my blades to the man up against the executioner. The two of us synced up perfectly, with him deflecting the large man's attacks while I tore into him with my swords. With only a few graceful flourishes with the Imperial iron, the butchered behemoth fell over. The other Imperials were dead as well.

"Have you seen Ulfric?" Ralof asked the other rebels.

"No," the only woman present said. Her accent was thicker than even the men's. "We haven't seen him since the dragon showed up."

In a separate conversation, the hammer-wielding Stormcloak offered me the executioner's axe.

"Your kill, your loot," he said.

I raised my swords. "I think I'm good. You take it."

The man shrugged, slinging the two heavy weapons over his shoulder as though they weighed nothing. I set to work checking their pockets, but found nothing more than some stray coins. I took the spell caster's clothes however at one of the Stormcloaks' prompting, saying that mage robes were worth a pretty penny.

"Hmm, look at what we've got here," Ralof said, looking into a cage inhabited by a dead mage.

"Don't bother," the woman said. "We can't find the key."

Ralof looked over at me. "Foreigner, why don't you try picking the lock? Here, I've got some picks."

"What do I look like, some kind of thief?" I asked, but I accepted the role of lock picks anyway.

I tried my luck fiddling with the lock, and in only a few seconds, it popped open. I swung the cage the rest of the way open. I found several coins littering the bottom of the cage as well as some potions, but what intrigued me most was the tome inscribed with a lightning bolt.

"Don't bother with that spell book," Ralof said. "Nords don't need to resort to cheap magic."

"I'm not a Nord, either," I said, pushing the book into a satchel I'd found back in the supplies room. I'd read it later.

"Let's move," Ralof said to me, and I realized that the other three blue clad soldiers had already left.

"Right," I said, trotting after Ralof down a moldy hall lined with cramped cells. Most of them were empty, but some of them had skeletons in them.

We reached a second torture room, but this one was empty, save more skeletons and some more recently deceased.

We continued further, reaching a new, more cave-like room with a waterfall in its center. Here, we encountered six more Imperials.

"Down with the Empire!" one of the Stormcloaks cried.

"Death to Ulfric!" the Imperials countered.

_Shut up and die_, I thought as I carved up a soldier to busy coming up with a battle cry to defend himself. The others seemed to have their opponents under wraps, but Imperials on the other side of the cave were firing arrows at us.

An arrow sprouted from my arm, and I let out a pained cry, dropping my swords. Without thinking, I raised my uninjured arm towards the Imperial who'd shot me, and with only an inkling of what to do, I forced all of my will through the palm of my hand, and a jet of red flames shot from it, engulfing the soldier.

I plucked the arrow from my arm and retrieved a longbow from one of the fallen Imperials, firing the reused arrow at another soldier. It connected with his chest with a satisfying _thump_ and he dropped dead.

"This room is cleared," one of the Stormcloaks said. "I think I see an exit from in here. Will you be joining us, Ralof?"

"No," he said. "My friend and I will continue forward. Foreigner, why don't you collect some arrows so you can use that bow?"

I had originally intended to just discard the bow, but I supposed that it could have its uses later on and slung it over my shoulder along with a quiver of thirty or so iron-headed arrows. The other rebels forged their own path through the cave while I followed Ralof down the beaten road and further into the keep that was steadily growing more crude.

We came to a raised drawbridge, a lever on the ground near it.

"Let's see what this does," Ralof said, fearlessly flipping the switch. In response, the drawbridge lowered, creating a path for us that lead into a completely untamed cave. As we walked into it, the ground trembled under our feet and I could hear the dragon roaring outside and something crumbling behind us.

"No going back that way," Ralof decided as we turned to see that the ceiling had caved in, destroying the bridge.

"Fate has chosen our path," I said. "Forward."

Ralof lead us through the cavern at a steady pace, following a little stream of water. It went on for several meters before slipping away underneath a solid wall of stone.

"No going this way." Ralof turned to an alternate path. "This'll have to do."

We moved on down the natural corridor to a large opening in the cavern, but it felt anything but victorious as it was filled with huge spider webs and egg sacs.

"Damn, we've wandered into a frostbite spider nest!" Ralof cursed, producing his war axe.

I drew my swords as well at the sight of several hideous, oversized arachnids sliding down from the ceiling on silky threads. We both hesitated for moment too long, as the spiders spat amorphous orbs at us that we barely managed to parry away.

I targeted a trio of the smaller spiders while I left Ralof with the larger one. Fighting the spiders turned out to be easy despite how terrifyingly ugly they were, as all they knew how to do was spit and lunge. It took all of fifteen seconds to kill the last of them off and to milk some venom from their shriveled up carcasses.

"Man, I hate those things," Ralof said with a shiver as we continued along. "Too many eyes, you know?"

I said nothing as we found the stream again, along with a rundown little bridge over the stream and a merchant's cart that's only companion was a bleached-white skeleton.

"Hold it!" Ralof whispered franticly, ducking down. "There's a bear just up ahead."

I followed his gaze, spotting the creature he was talking about. The brown-furred beast seemed relaxed enough, but then again it also didn't seem to have noticed s ye either.

"It'd be foolish to take her on in a fight right now with our poor gear," he said. "We should just try and sneak by her for now. Or, if you're feeling lucky, you can try out your marksmanship with that bow. You might get lucky and take her by surprise."

I chose the latter, producing my bow and notching an arrow in it. I let the arrow fly, and it connected solidly with the beast. However, this didn't seem to affect it as it stood up, sniffing around for the source of the arrow. I let fly another one, this time killing it.

"Eh, sneaking's overrated anyway," Ralof said. "Go retrieve your arrows."

We continued through the cavern. We were at the ready the whole way, but nothing else happened. After we rounded a bend, I could see light, and Ralof was overjoyed.

"That must be the exit!" he exclaimed. "I knew we'd make it!"

Sheathing our weapons, we dashed for the exit, welcoming the icy kiss of the air outside. The wintery pines seemed oddly beautiful in the afternoon light, almost like how it is when you have a near death experience and suddenly you're just grateful to be alive and everything suddenly seems so much better than what it is.

"We've made it," Ralof said with relief.

That relief was quickly foregone however at the sound of a roar.

"Get down!" Ralof shouted, taking cover behind a rock.

I didn't bother. Somehow I knew that the dragon wouldn't see us, and even if it did it wouldn't cause us any trouble. Sure enough, the ebon scaled beast flew right by, soaring for the mountains.

"Ironic, isn't it?" the man said. "Dragons are considered the harbingers of death, and yet that one, intentionally or not, saved us."

I said nothing, something that I found myself skilled in doing. Ralof was treating this as a blessing. But I wasn't so sure. Somehow, I felt that this was the prelude to something much more.

But who was I to say? I was but a man with no past, no future, only present. I didn't even know what color my damn eyes were.

_Author's Note_: Egad! Man, that was startlingly painful. Did you know that this chapter has more than six thousand words and is fourteen pages long? That's a new personal record. I spent a full three days writing this (though of course not with much dedication). But, I'm happy with I've come up with. Anyway, credit also goes to YouTubers TheRadBrad and Ghost Robo for their awesome (though largely noob-ish) walkthroughs on Skyrim. I myself am playing the game, of course, but I can't remember all of the details to this seemingly never ending game, so I was pretty much writing in time to their episodes on this. Anyways, knowing just how long I've spent on this and how many muscles I've pulled writing it, please be sure to Favorite, Follow, and Review. I'll get to work on a second chapter right away, but the Fun Fact will explain why that I might be bullshitting you on that.

_Fun Fact_: It was 4:30 in the morning when I finished and posted this. _In the god forsaken morning._ You kids better drop some awesome Reviews and plenty of Favs.


	2. Chapter 2: Imperials and Stormcloaks

_Disclaimer_: I **_DO NOT_** own the gaming franchise Elder Scrolls by Bethesda Game Studios nor am in any way associated with them or their affiliates other than through the purchasing of their products.

_Author's Note_: So, chapter two, up and ready to go. I considered throwing in a bit of a crawl through Embershard Mine for Gio, but I don't want this chapter to be as long, and there isn't much in the mine for him, so I might go back to it later on for a bounty or something. Until then, enjoy.

**Chapter 2: Imperials and Stormcloaks**

"I think it's gone for good this time," Ralof said, standing up from his hiding place behind a border and watching as the black dragon glided away towards the mountains in the distance. "Come on, foreigner. We'd best be out of here before Imperials start crawling around looking for us."

He turned to face me. "I'm going to go to Riverwood. My sister runs a mill there. I'd appreciate it if you came with me, but it's probably for the best that we split up."

"You wish," I stated blandly. "You still owe me an explanation on this Imperial and Stormcloak business."

"Aye, I do, don't I? Wait until we reach my sister's house. It'd be wiser that we converse away from any eavesdroppers or the dangers of Skyrim's wilds."

"So who is your sister?" I asked as we started down the dirt road at a trot.

"Her name is Gerdur. She lives with her husband Hod in Riverwood. They run the village's wood mill. Riverwood has no appointed leaders, but they probably would be those leaders in terms of wealth and with how informed they are. Gerdur will definitely be able to help shed some light on our situation."

As we reached a bend in the road, Ralof stopped us.

"Guardian Stones," he said, pointing to a triangle of stones taller than I was inscribed with runes and pictures of men dressed in various garments. On one stone was a man in a robe carrying a stave; the second was a man in a hood with a drawn knife; and the last had a man bearing a sword and shield and wearing a helmet.

"You should pray to them," Ralof suggested. "If you do, the gods may offer you strength."

"Pray…to the stones?" I inquired.

"Aye. Us Nords usually would pray to Warrior Stones. Bretons are fond of the Mage Stone, and Redguard are ones for the Thief Stone. The Imperials don't pray due to a treaty that they have the high elves, the Thalmor." The big man shrugged. "But, it's your decision. It's considered bad luck, but you could pray to all three if you like."

I gazed at the three triangular pillars. I could understand why the Imperials and Thalmor would be against it; praying to a rock seemed ludicrous. But, by this point, I needed all the help I could get.

I bowed before the three runic pillars, ducking my head and asking to seemingly no one in particular with my thoughts for them to lend me aid in my coming journey. It seemed ridiculous at first, but I could feel my muscles loosening up, while simultaneously they grew stronger along with my bones. A deep knowledge seemed to pour forth into me, and I felt as though I alone could take down a whole legion and a dragon.

"Well I'll be," I heard Ralof say. "Never seen 'em do that before."

I looked up at the stones. Within their round hollows that were like eyes of the stones ringed with bronze, blue orbs of light hovered. And shooting skyward from the pinnacles of the pillars were beams of light, piercing the thick clouds high above and leaving my sight. After a few moments, the light faded before completely dissipating.

"I'm no clergyman," Ralof said matter of factly, "but I'd say that the gods have answered your prayers."

"Perhaps," I muttered, my gaze still on the sky. Maybe this had something to do with who I was, who I was meant to become. But that was beyond me.

"We should get going," Ralof said. "I want to get to Riverwood before it gets dark." He grinned at me. "You know, I'm actually kind of envious of you. The gods must like scrawny, ugly foreigners."

"My name is Gio," I growled under my breath as Ralof turned and trotted away. I followed after him, brushing the dirt from my pants.

We continued for about another league when I caught sight of something in the distance on the other side of the river we hiked alongside. It was mountain, but way up high on its peak, I could see some sort of ruins.

"Ralof, what is that?" I asked, nodding in the direction of the mountain.

"Bleakfalls Barrow," he informed me. "It's an abandoned keep from the old days. My father always warned me of ruins like it; said that if I got to close, the drougr would wake up and attack me." He chuckled softly to himself. "I used to be so scared, living in that damned shadow. I used to fear that the drougr would climb down the mountain and crawl through my bedroom window and get me in my sleep. Even now, the barrow gives me the creeps. Gives all of Skyrim the creeps, save what few bandits are stupid enough to try and plunder its treasures."

He pointed ahead of us to a low wooden wall. "Look, it's Riverwood. We arrived sooner than I was expecting. Pity, I was going to show you the old mine along the way. Must've missed it."

We slowed down to a quick walk. There were guards patrolling the wall, but they ignored us for the most part.

"Gerdur will be working about now," Ralof said. "Follow me to the mill."

As we passed through the village, I noticed that life seemed peaceful despite the dragon attack on Helgen. It seemed as though the tiny riverside village had been spared. There were plenty of guards, all wearing ruddy yellow leather armor and bearing wooden shields with either a war axe or sword belted at their hips, but the lack of proper defensive structures like towers or a fortress would work against them.

"Gerdur!" Ralof called to a woman who was doubled over chopping logs.

"Ralof?" she replied. She turned around, and when she spotted the big blonde, she smiled genially. "Why, Ralof! It's been so long brother. Where have you been?"

"Ralof, if it isn't my favorite brother-in-law," I heard a man say. A bulky Nord man approached us, clapping a big hand on Ralof's shoulder. "Here to tell tales of glory fighting for the Stormcloaks over a pint?"

"Gods, man, as if you need any more mead," Gerdur said. "So why are you here, Ralof? And who is this young man? He wears the Stormcloak colors, but I don't think I recognize him."

"This is the foreigner," Ralof said, earning a private scowl from me. "We were brothers in binds, headed to Helgen so we could meet our makers."

"Only you could get into such trouble, Ralof. So, what happened?"

"I was actually hoping we could discuss this more inside."

"Oh, of course. Last thing we need is Imperial ears overhearing our conversation."

Gerdur and Hod took the lead, guiding us to the opposite side of the village.

"So where are you from, foreigner?" Gerdur asked me as we walked.

"Don't bother," Ralof said. "He's not a big talker, and doesn't have any clue about his past. Beyond his awakening in the back of an Imperial prison wagon, he doesn't have any memory. He must've taken a hammer to the head when he walked into that ambush."

"Ambush?"

"I'll explain it all later."

We reached the house, a small little thing, and Gerdur produced a key and unlocked it. We walked inside of the one room building, the Nord woman shutting and barring the door behind us.

"Now, tell us everything," Gerdur insisted as we all sat down at a table.

And so Ralof recounted the events prior in great detail, even some from before my memory during an Imperial ambush where he and the other Stormcloaks had been captured. Meanwhile, I munched on some bread and cheese while sipping at a tankard of some sort of ale, reading the blue tome I'd picked up back in the torture room. It was a guide on how to channel one's inner energy in order to cast a magic spell called sparks. It described the spell to be a rather easy one to cast, known by most all mages, but I was having a hard time wrapping my head around it.

"That's why Nords rely on our strength instead of fancy tricks," Hod said to me when I asked him if he understood.

"A dragon at Helgen," Gerdur said thoughtfully as Ralof concluded his tale. "You're sure of this?"

"As sure as I am that Ulfric is the true High King."

"Gods help us if you're right," she said. "So, what are you going to do then, brother?"

"Return to Windhelm and Jarl Ulfric. There's nothing else I can do. Although, I could send word to Whiterun and perhaps they might send more men to reinforce Riverwood. That's really out of the way, though."

"I could do it," I offered. "But first, I still need an explanation on the Imperials and the Stormcloaks. Who are they?"

"The Imperials are a people from the Empire, Cyrodiil," Gerdur explained. "For a long time, they've controlled Skyrim as their leader was also our High King. One day, Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak of Windhelm challenged the High King in a formal duel to the death for the throne as High King of all Skyrim. The High King was old and weak, but he accepted the formal challenge, and was defeated. Traditionally, that would have made Ulfric new High King, except the Empire didn't like the Nord tradition and how it unshackled Skyrim from their control, so they didn't allow Ulfric the throne."

"And so the Stormcloak rebellion began," Ralof said. "For a time, we'd nearly beaten the Empire and their Imperial Legion back, but they made a truce with the Thalmor high elves. Part of their peace treaty was the outlawing of god worship, a tradition in Skyrim older than that tradition that should have made Ulfric king. Although, all that's done is fuel the rage of the people of Skyrim."

"Interesting," I said. "So, why do you call yourselves Stormcloaks?"

"It was actually a title bestowed to us by the Imperials to poke fun at us for being on Ulfric Stormcloak's side," Ralof said. "But we grew to love it, for I described us perfectly. We would fall upon the Empire and ravage them and all our enemies like a vicious storm, while we protect our brothers and sisters of Skyrim like a warm cloak."

"I understand it now," I said. "So the Imperials have been outlawing Nordic tradition after tradition, so you all got pissed and rebelled."

They all stared blankly at me for a moment, and I'd feared that perhaps I'd worded my statement poorly. But I felt at ease once more when Hod and Ralof let out a chorus of hearty laughter, mead sloshing from their tankards, and Gerdur gave a pleasant grin.

"Sister," Ralof said earnestly, turning to face Gerdur. "We've had a long day, and have no place to stay. If you wouldn't mind, could we sleep here for the night? If it's any trouble, we could always rent a room at the Sleeping Giant."

"It's fine brother," she said. She turned to me, holding out a hand to me that held a small key. "Take this, foreigner. It's a key to the house. Anytime that you need someplace to go, don't be afraid to invite yourself in."

"Don't worry about him being afraid to come in," Ralof said. "You should see him pick a lock. He must've been a bandit in a past life."

"Also, take any food for the road," Gerdur said, ignoring her brother. "We have plenty of gold as well, and some potions."

"Thank you, Gerdur," I said appreciatively. "But, do you have a local smith? This armor fits awkwardly on me."

"Yes, just down the road. Alvor runs a forge outside of his house. His nephew fights for the Imperial Legion, but he's a good man. If he's not in the forge, he's probably inside drinking mead."

"Thank you. I'll go pay him a visit."

I stood up from the table and left the house, leaving the family members on their own. Gerdur's instructions were vague, but Riverwood was small enough that I spotted the forge easily enough. As I looked around the small patio were it was set up, I noticed plenty of fine blades and impressive horned helmets, but Alvor didn't appear to be out.

"Need something, stranger?" I heard a man say behind me as I was examining an impressive blade of some sort of steel.

I turned and saw a blonde Nord man who looked somewhat familiar standing behind me.

"Are you Alvor?" I asked him, putting the sword carefully back down on the workbench where I found it.

"Aye, that I am. You need something?" He was eyeing my Stormcloak cuirass critically.

"Gerdur told me you were a smith in these parts. My armor was forged for a bigger man, and it fits uncomfortably. That and I could use a couple of swords."

"I can do armor alterations," he said. "Don't have the materials to make you something in Stormcloak fashion from scratch."

"That's okay," I assured him. "I'm not actually on either side. I'm just…borrowing this from a friend of a friend."

"Sounds fine by me," Alvor said, his tone lightening. "Except, I truly don't have any supplies right now to make anything. You could stop by the Riverwood Trader and see what they have up for sale there."

"Uncle, I wasn't done telling you my story yet," a voice that I definitely recognized called. A broad man with brown hair walked around the corner, stopping in his tracks when he saw me.

"Gio?" Hadvar asked cautiously.

"Hadvar?" I replied.

A huge grin spread across his face and he took two large steps toward me, grasping my forearm.

"Gods am I glad to see you're safe," he said enthusiastically. "Turned my back to you for one damned second and where you were standing there was that black monstrosity. I was afraid it'd eaten you."

"Don't offend me," I said, feeling as though I was talking to an old friend. "As if some glorified lizard will be my demise."

He grinned, but let both the smile and my arm drop when he noticed my blue armor.

"You're a Stormcloak?" he said disbelievingly.

"No, not really," I said. "I needed armor, and this was all that was available. I just stopped by actually looking for your uncle to make me some, but it would seem as though he's all out of supplies."

"Wish I could change my mind, knowing that you know my nephew," Alvor said. "But, it's true. I have some stuff up for sale, but you aren't big enough to wear the armor I craft. I have some great swords and battle axes in stock, though."

"I'll stick with these," I said patting the hilts of my Imperial blades. "Maybe I'll stop by the Trader though, just to look around."

"Be sure to visit, Gio," Hadvar told me.

"Aye, I will," I assured him. "But, while I'm here, tell me something: why the Empire? I'd imagine that a Nord would fight for the Stormcloaks."

"Because Ulfric is a damned barbarian and usurper who abuses the power given to him," the soldier spat.

"What do you mean? I've heard a little about this civil war, but it was a one-sided opinion. The person I'd heard it from said that Ulfric had made a formal challenge to the High King and won. Meaning that he should be king. They said that the late king was weak and unfit to rule Skyrim."

"Obviously you heard this from one of the rebels. Yes, Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak of Windhelm made a formal challenge to the High King of Skyrim, but the bastard cheated. He only won through use of the Voice. He has no honor. And to make it worse, he supports racism against the other people of Skyrim, primarily targeting the elves. High elf, dark elf, wood elf, or even the Khajit or Argonians; if they aren't Nord, they aren't a part of his ideals."

"I hear you on that subject. But why accept that treaty with the Thalmor? It outlaws many of the traditions of Skyrim, which certainly will only fuel the people's rage and hate towards the Empire."

"I don't know that many details," Hadvar said. "I'm just a soldier. But the Stormcloaks had us backed into a corner, and we had no choice but to accept the elves' terms."

I hummed thoughtfully to myself. Why would the elves care? I considered asking Hadvar this, but he didn't even know the full details about the treaty between them or why it was accepted despite its harsh terms.

"Well, thank you," I said. "I'll be going now. I hope to see you again, though preferably not when I'm about to be executed."

"That would be nice. Farewell, friend."

I started down the road towards the large building with a sign hanging out before it that read "The Riverwood Trader".

I stepped in through the door, ringing a bell as it swung open. Inside, there was a man and a woman, Imperial by the looks of them, arguing over something.

"Just let it go, brother!" the woman said. "It's not worth risking your life over!"

"I can't just sit idly by and do nothing about it!" the man countered. He noticed me standing at the door, watching them curiously. "We can finish this later. We have a customer."

The woman looked over her shoulder at me, giving the man a final scowl before walking past me to sit down at a table in the room.

"Talk some sense into my brother, would you?" she said as she walked by me.

"What was that all about?" I asked the man, stepping up to the counter he stood behind.

"Nothing," he said. "We had a break-in recently is all."

"A break-in? Was anybody hurt?"

"No, my sister Camilla and I weren't home when it happened. See, some thieves picked the lock to our store. They stole this little trinket that's been in our family for generations. It was a golden dragon's claw, though it probably wasn't worth much. Of all the things that they could have stolen, that was the only thing they went after, oddly enough."

"Interesting… Any idea where the thieves might be headed?"

"The only local bandit camp that usually causes much trouble around here is based all the way in Bleak Falls Barrow. You wouldn't mind going to fetch for me now would you? I can't pay you up front, but I have a shipment of gold coming in that I could pay you with tomorrow. My name is Lucan, by the way. Lucan Valerius. My sister and I are the owners of the Riverwood Trader. Might I ask your name?"

"Call me Gio."

"Gio, huh?" the woman said, standing over from the table and walking over to us. "So, you're going after that old thing after all. You don't look like you're from around here. I'll take you to the Barrow, if you like."

"Absolutely not," Lucan said firmly. "It's too dangerous. You could get hurt."

"Don't worry," she insisted. "It's not like I'm going dungeon crawling. I'll take him to the spot and then _turn around and come right back home."_

"Fine. But you better not do anything foolish, you go that?"

"I'll be fine." She turned to face me. "Come on; let's go, Gio."

She grabbed me by my wrist, dragging me out of the store. She released me once the door was closed and we were on the street, heading for a different entrance to the village than I'd used before with Ralof.

"My name is Camilla, by the way," she said casually, almost as though we were old friends. Nearby, I could see a pair of men glowering at us. Or perhaps more properly at _me_.

She looked at me from the corner of her eye. "You don't look much like any of the common races of Skyrim. Your skin is fair like a Nord's, but you're hair is more like a Breton's or Redguard's. And you're so tall and lithe but at the same time so well muscled, like an ideal Imperial man. Where do you come from, stranger?"

"Beats me," I admitted. I didn't give her any other response.

"So, what? You're just some journeyman then, no home to go to?"

"You could say that."

Camilla hummed thoughtfully, almost erotically. "Well, whatever race you are, you should be careful. A charming man like yourself is bound to attract some pretty maidens, eager to get a bite of you."

She said that last part suggestively, and I realized what her game was. I was left desperate from an escape from this situation that I had no idea how to handle.

"There's a fork in the road ahead," I noted, searching for anyway out. "Which way do we go?"

Camilla chuckled softly before telling me to go left, bumping me lightly with her hip.

**End Chapter**

_Author's Note_: Another relatively long chapter for Gio Dragonsbane, but only a little more than half as long as the first one. I actually have surprisingly little to say this time, other than Favorite, Follow, Review, recommend this to your friends, and enjoy the Fun Fact.

_Fun Fact_: Camilla doesn't actually start getting flirty with the PC until you've cleared the quest The Golden Claw (which Gio is currently embarking on), and only goes as far as the bridge just outside of Riverwood. Also, following Ralof in the game will cause Hadvar to suddenly and mysteriously disappear off the face of the earth.


	3. Chapter 3: Bleak Falls Barrow

_Disclaimer_: I **_DO NOT_** own the iconic gaming franchise The Elder Scrolls by Bethesda Game Studios nor am in any way associated with them or their affiliates other than through the purchasing of their various products.

_Author's Note_: Unless the escape from Helgen counts, it looks like Gio is headed out on his first dungeon crawl: Bleak Fall Barrows. Warning: this is gonna be a long one. I'm not only going to be covering most of the trip to the Barrow; I'm going to put down every last detail on his actual experience traveling through his first official dungeon. Enjoy.

**Chapter 3: Bleak Falls Barrow**

"You'd have job requests piling in from all over Skyrim if you decided to become a mercenary," Camilla complimented me as I drew my bloodied swords from the last wolf of the pack that had attacked us.

I grunted in response, sheathing my twin blades.

"You don't talk much either, do you?" she asked.

Keeping up the appeal, I shrugged. She'd gotten bored a while back with her one-sided flirting.

"Well, mind if I just kind of ventilate to you then?"

I said nothing.

She sighed. "You know, it's kind of awkward trying to talk to someone who acts like their tongue has been cut out, but okay.

"I don't get what it is that's so special about that dusty old thing. It's a family heirloom and all, something that could only be important to a member of the Valerius family. But when those thieves broke into the shop that was all that they took. We have plenty of things back at the Trader that were worth much more than that claw and also were more useful.

"I'm not sure if my brother ever noticed this before, but if you look really closely at the bottom of the claw, you can see some crude animals etched into it. I can't remember what order they were in, but I know that there was a bear, an owl, and some sort of insect like a moth. It almost seemed like a code to something, like a combination lock."

"That may have something to do with why they took it," I said.

"How do you mean?"

"They may think that it's a key of some kind and want to use it to gain access to some sort of treasure trove."

"Yeah, you could be right."

Her eyes wandered to my armor. She'd looked at it several times already, but hadn't said anything about it.

"No, I'm not a Stormcloak," I told her before she could ask.

"I didn't think so," she said. "Ralof is the rebel I've ever met that's reckless enough to wander far from the pack and still wear the colors. I figured you'd probably just looted it or something, since it doesn't seem to fit you so well."

I didn't answer, and she sighed. Snow started falling, and she shivered.

"Excellent," she muttered. "We must be almost there."

I squinted through the snow, which seemed to be thickening rapidly as we ascended, but I noticed something tall and broad just a little ways ahead.

"What's that?" I asked, pointing in the direction of the object.

Camilla followed my finger, and she answered, "It used to be a guard tower back when the Barrow was still a keep. Now it's just a crumbling mound stone and mortar. We should take shelter in there, maybe warm up a little bit."

We trudged forward through the snow towards the ruined shelter. As we drew closer however, I noticed the light of a campfire through the flurries.

"Get down!" I whispered sharply, pushing Camilla into the snow.

She cursed, but I clamped a hand over her mouth and pointed to the orange light. When she realized what was going on, she nodded her head and pried my hand away.

"It's most likely bandits keeping a watch for anyone like us," I said softly into the Imperial woman's ear. "I'm going to go ahead and see what's up. If they seem hostile, I'll take them out before I come back for you. If not, then we'll just continue forward."

"Be careful," Camilla warned me as I crept by way towards the flickering flames.

I stopped behind a snow bank, close enough that I could see but whoever was ahead could not. It dawned on me that I was unsure what a bandit might look like, but I figured that it wouldn't be too hard to tell the difference between a cutthroat thief and a weary vagabond.

There was only one person who sat huddled up by the flame. They appeared to be a woman, built similarly to an Imperial but a little too dark-skinned. She wasn't wearing much more than a little fur armor, but she seemed comfortable enough by the fire. A hide shield was propped up against her side to ward off the wind that was blowing in from her left, and an axe was embedded in the ground by her other side. On top of the tower I could see torchlight, probably someone else.

The wind changed direction for a breath of a second, and the woman's head snapped up.

"Who's there?" she demanded, slipping on her shield on and picking up the axe.

I kept still and silent, hoping that maybe I could convince her she hadn't actually caught my scent. I silently cursed the sweat and blood covered Stormcloak mail I wore.

"If you don't show yourself," she warned, "then we'll fill your sorry arse up with arrows."

"Watch the language," I said, standing up from the snow bank and advancing with my arms out to my sides.

"Stop right there!"

I complied. "You're a bandit, I take it?"

"If you don't turn around and go back the way you came, then I'll show you."

"Too bad," I said, smirking.

I dashed forward, ducking low as I could to dodge the arrows that suddenly hailed down from the top of the tower. As I approached the bandit, I drew my swords, slicing her with a double drawing-slash. Her armor did little to protect her, and she collapsed in a bloodied heap, her axe dropping out of her hand and her shield sliding from her forearm.

An arrow embedded itself in my left shoulder, and I glared up at the top of the tower. The archer was too far for my flames to reach, and it would be too difficult to aim my new sparks spell. I yanked the arrow from my arm, adding it to my collection before using a healing spell (which I'd discovered I knew quite by accident on the way up) on the wound.

I started to produce my bow to counter the archer, but two more bandits charged out of the tower, one of which was bearing a banded iron shield, the other a two-handed battle axe. Sacrificing my second sword to its sheath I took the fallen bandit woman's shield and held it above my head to ward off any arrows as I prepared to counter the approaching thieves.

The one with the axe reached me first, swinging his weapon heavily for my side. I casually backed away just out of reach of his strike so that he only scratched my light armor before countering with a thrust of my blade into his gut. I wrenched it around a bit for good measure before ripping it upward, rending his abdomen and allowing his insides to flop out.

The second man reached me, and he was taking a clearly more defensive stance as he hid behind his heavy shield. The moment he moved it aside to attack me I thrust my sword through his throat, blood spurting out from both the entry and exit wound as he drowned on his own blood.

I discarded the shield and advanced to the inside of the tower across a short stone bridge that I wouldn't have even realized was there if I hadn't approached the outpost as a whole from the side. The inside of the tower wasn't much warmer than it was outside, but it wasn't snowy at least. There were a couple of tables inside, both of them covered with gold and coin purses that I decided I would loot once I was done with the last bandit.

I climbed up the steps to the more exposed second floor, where I had to then move on to an exterior ramp to reach the top of the tower. I kept only one sword out; bandits wouldn't be smart enough to carry both a bow and an efficient melee weapon.

As I rounded onto the top of the tower, I just barely managed to deflect an arrow with my blade. The bandit seized the opportunity to toss his bow aside and draw a dagger, but by the time he'd gotten that far I'd already gutted him.

I quickly made my way back down the stairs and to where I left Camilla. She was beginning to look a little blue, and I quickly lead her over to the fire. While she warmed herself I looked around inside the tower, coming up with some measly gold and a few potatoes and cabbages.

"You've got frostbite," I noted, examining Camilla's exposed hands and forearms.

"I'll be fine," she said from chattering teeth. "We're almost there."

I looked in the direction of the barrow. I could already make out its tall, arching columns even through all the snow.

"It's only going to get worse from here," I told her. "I'm going to leave you here by the fire, but once you're warmed back up, I want you to head back to Riverwood. Your brother will likely murder me if I let you die of cold."

"Yeah, you're right about that last part, and I guess you are about the first part, too. Fine, but don't let yourself get gutted by any of those pigs up there."

"I hope for their sake they aren't all as helpless as these swine."

I stood up from the fire, flinching at the sudden bite of the cold away from the flames. I continued up the mountainside, checking over my shoulder to make sure that the Imperial woman was doing as I instructed. Just as the tower was beginning to leave my range of sight, I could see that she was gone.

It didn't take long for me to reach the top of the mountain and Bleak Falls Barrow with that. It was difficult to tell, but it was probably only a few hours past noon.

I climbed up the stone stairs that lead to the keep carelessly. The snow was falling so thick that I could only see a few meters in front of me, so by the time I'd notice any bandits, we'd already be so close that I'd be forced to engage them.

What I didn't count on was that the arches would somehow create a sort of invisible dome over the Barrow, and as soon as I reached the top of the stairs, I was spotted by a trio of bandits.

These ones didn't ask any questions as they readied their weapons. Two of them, a man and a woman, readied bows, but the third, a large Nord man, drew a pair of war axes from his belt and charged me.

I countered him as best I could with my swords, but stopping the towering bandit was like stopping a charging bull. We connected hard, and he actually pushed me backwards as I struggled to keep his axes from cleaving me, guarding myself from them with the flats of my sword blades.

He stopped pushing me suddenly and swung his axes back to strike me with a double descending slash, but I danced out of his way. An arrow stung my side and another whizzed past my face, but I paid them little mind as I severed the behemoth man's hamstrings before slicing his neck bone. Whether I'd properly killed him or just paralyzed him was beyond me, but it did the trick.

With the remaining archers I entered a sort of bow battle as we took turns diving behind cover and sending volleys of iron needles at each other. I'd quickly killed the woman who'd only been a few meters away, but the man was much farther away, making him a much more difficult target. Eventually I figured out his pattern, and by leading him with my bow, I managed to take him down with a single lethal shot in his armpit.

I considered looting them, but decided against it. The bandits at the tower hadn't had much gold, and I didn't feel like committing more necrophilia. I sated myself by taking the woman bandit's dozen arrows to replenish a portion of the ones that I had sent flying over the mountain side trying to kill the last man. After that, I followed a second flight of stairs to a set of heavy oaken doors and entered the Bleak Falls Barrow.

Inside was earthily warm. I could hear people talking, but they didn't seem alerted to my presence, and I intended to keep my stealth in check. I readied my bow to snipe some bastard-borne.

All over the inside of the barrow were dead bodies. Some of them were fresh, travelers who'd mistakenly wandered in and bandits who must've been killed by their partners during scuffles; some were the withered corpses of mummified soldiers from ages past; and then there were oversized, dead rats all over. I felt oddly compelled to cut off their tails and take them with me, but I ignored the feeling. I'd soon feel down a hundred dead men and women's corpses.

Stalking towards the pair of bandits was painfully easy with all of the rubble inside the barrow. I simply crept from rubble pile to rubble pile—the man and woman too engrossed in their conversation too even notice. Before long, I was crouched down behind a pillar not three meters away from the duo. The man—a large specimen like the one outside—was busily trying to seduce his female companion, but even I could tell that she wasn't in the mood for a sporadic fucking.

I aimed over top of the pillar, directing my arrow at the big man first. I let the arrow fly at his unarmored back, but it caught in his sinewy muscles, barely scathing him and only succeeding to alert the bandits of my presence.

"Who's there?" they demanded, preparing their weapons. The man picked up a great sword while the woman had an iron shield and longsword.

I ducked out of hiding, this time letting the arrow fly at the man's head, hitting him right in the eye and causing him to drop like a stone, but the woman spotted me.

"You're dead!" she screamed at me, charging headlong at me.

I managed to produce my blades while rapidly backpedaling from the ferocious female (it wouldn't be until later that I discovered she was on her monthly cycle, making her all the more threatening), but tripped over a corpse of some kind and nearly skewering myself but also managing a reverse roll.

She brought her blade down on me, and I barely managed to catch it between mine. I pushed her back, buying myself enough time to right myself before she swatted at my head with the rim of her shield. I recognized that she was a bit more experienced than the other bandits and would probably be a much more worthy opponent for one of my caliber.

"You're pretty good," I complimented her as he struggled for dominance, our blades locked and our faces inches apart. "But I'm better."

I kneed her in the crotch (which is how I discovered the aforementioned), fazing her long enough for me to drive my blades home through her leather armor and into her lungs. No crying out for help or raising the alarm; her death would be silent and tragic as she gurgled on her blood.

Even though it was a life or death situation, I felt somewhat badly about the dirty trick I'd used to beat the bandit, but I decided that it was no different than how I'd snuck up on them and tried shooting them in their backsides.

This time I did check the bandits, coming up with a fair amount of gold. I almost considered switching armor with the fallen woman, but I'd ruined it and I definitely didn't feel good about undressing a woman, so I continued forward.

There weren't nearly as many bandits down the cave-like corridor that I followed, and all the twists and turns made it easy for me to sneak up on them and take them out with my bow. I hadn't encountered anyone worth fighting in a proper duel yet, and I was actually getting slightly bored with the redundant nature of my exploration. So far, none of them seemed to be carrying Lucan's golden claw.

I stopped at a crude stairwell. Just down the steps I could see another bandit who was better dressed than the others in quality leather armor. I took out my bow, intending to shoot him in the back of the neck. He was about my size, and I didn't want to ruin the armor that could potentially be better than what I wore. But just as I'd aligned my arrow, he stepped forward and out of view.

I started to inch forward, but stopped when I heard the sound of someone pulling a lever. In response, I heard dozens of rapid thumping sounds, as if a hundred archers were all releasing arrows from their bows one at a time.

Curious, I moved forward, hugging the wall so that the frame of the passageway into the room kept me hidden. Peeking around the frame, I saw the bandit, lying dead on the ground, filled full of oversized arrows.

"Thanks for ruining my armor," I said, standing up straight and walking into the room.

He was in front of a lever in the ground, which seemed like it probably opened the gate four meters ahead of it. Even without the bandit's death I could tell that it was a trap simply based on the lever's positioning. But how to get around the trap I didn't know. Even when the trap was sprung, the gate hadn't risen. I immediately suspected a hidden switch and started searching the room.

After nearly half an hour of searching I hadn't come up with anything more than some coin and a few red potions. I'd discovered the slots where I suspected the arrows were shot from and plugged them with rocks and linen wrappings I'd found lying around, but it didn't change the fact that I couldn't continue forward.

I searched the bandit, hoping maybe that I could find some clue as to what I should do. I found a journal, and scribbled on one of its pages I found a representation of some images of a serpent, a marine animal, and a bird. They were similar to the carvings on a series of stones in the room, and I decided that that must be the hidden key.

To the left of the lever were three stones, all with a carving of a snake on them, but they appeared as though they could be rotated. Above the platform that shaded the gate were three larger, unmoving representations of the stones. Or, at least where there might have used to have been three of them. Only two were still standing; the third seemed to have crumbled away long ago. The only difference was the animals carved on them: the middle one had a dolphin, and the one to the right was a snake.

_What a fool,_ I thought. _The answer to this puzzle was right in front of him and he didn't even know it._

I rotated the stones so that they matched their larger representations up on the wall. It took me a while to decide on the left one, but I decided that it would be the snake by random assumption.

I braced myself behind the lever, prepared to dive out of the way in case I sprung the trap and my plugs didn't hold off the darts. Slowly, hesitantly, I leaned against the switch, and when I heard a clicking sound, I instinctually jumped out of the way. But rather than having set the trap off, the gate was sinking slowly into the floor.

I allowed myself a slight grin. It was nerve-racking, knowing that your next action could be either the death of you or your greatest achievement. In this case, it probably wasn't my greatest achievement, but I still felt satisfied as I crossed into the next corridor.

The next corridor wasn't nearly as subterranean in appearance as the last, but it was still musty. It didn't seem as though the bandits had ever made it so far; the corridor was empty of life save living, aggressive versions of the rats I'd seen at the entrance, and everything appeared as though nobody had interacted with the treasures that included gemstones, masses of gold coins, and a large variety of potions of all different colors that I was in no mood to experiment with to discover their effects.

I stopped short when I entered a large, empty room. There were slots in the walls, filled up with sarcophagi. It was a cryptic feeling, with even the stale air seemingly lifeless. Lifeless, all save the one sarcophagus lid that was slowly sliding out from its position on the wall.

It clattered to the ground, shattering into several large fragments, and I drew my swords. Something flopped out after the lid, standing up on withered legs and hefting a rusted but fearsome-looking great sword. The thing that had just crawled from the wall resembled the mummified corpses from the entrance, only this one was still very much alive, as was the other one that had just crawled out from its own slot and was readying a war axe.

"You must be these draugr I've heard so much about," I said, looking for intelligence. They gave no reply, save a constant chattering of their teeth.

Not waiting any longer, I leapt at the one with the great sword, embedding my blades halfway through its shoulders. The draugr seemed totally oblivious to the bite of my steel however, and it shoved me away from it, my swords still buried in its arms. Now I was unarmed, save for…

I raised my hands, focusing my energies as the tome had instructed. Hot energy collected at my hands, and after only a second, red fire erupted from my palms, cloaking the undead warrior in a red inferno as it screamed and wailed. Seeing as how affective the flames spell was on their dry flesh, I focused on the second draugr as the first fell in a charred heap. Before long, I had the both of them returned to the dead.

After retrieving my swords from the draugr, I continued forward and right into another room where this time three undead were waiting for me, two with swords and one with a battle axe. All of them had a single, cold intent.

Fighting the three already ready draugr required more finesse than I'd ever been required to exert before on a foe. For being dead, they were extremely synchronized, as if controlled by a single hive mind as they attacked me one at a time. While I blocked the heavy battle axe of the third draugr, the other two sword-wielding monsters would try to slash at me legs, and while I blocked their attacks, the third was trying to cleave me down the middle. Disarming them wasn't an option; it was as if their weapons were affixed to their hands.

I'd taken several hits before I was finally forced into a retreat to drink some potions and hopefully disorganize the draugr. The corridor connecting the two rooms was narrow, and I decided to finish them in there where they couldn't come at me all at once. The two sword-wielding draugr lead the axe wielding one, the two of them shoulder-to-shoulder in the corridor. They attacked me simultaneously, and I deflected their attacks, unbalancing them and making it easy for me sever them at their torsos. I caught their blades as they fell, finding the longswords to be comfortably heavier than by Imperial blades and they also seemed slightly sharper, oddly enough. Given an hour or two of love at a grindstone and a little (read: a lot) polish, they would be fine swords.

The following draugr swung its axe at me, but I easily side stepped the attack and cross chopped the monster, cleaving through it like butter with my new swords.

I sheathed my new and also ironically old blades, discarding the cheap Imperial ones altogether. They'd only weigh me down at this point.

I continued forward uneventfully, save for the trap that I'd activated while exiting the sarcophagus rooms. The tile that activated the large spiked gate was placed very obviously, but I didn't expect any traps like that one to appear. But after that, continuing forward until I reached a winding rout that wrapped around a small waterfall was very monochrome in how easy it was and even almost boring. Another draugr was waiting for me there, but the lone undead warrior didn't stand a chance as I simply used magic on it to kill it before it'd even seen me.

I first followed the path the rest of the way down, reaching a small pool at the base of the waterfall. There were drowned giant rats floating in the pool, but nothing living was down there, although there was a chest filled with some gold and a few odd gemstones that were pretty and I assumed could probably sell for a purse-full of coins. As I handled them, they seemed to hum lightly with some ominous power, but only two of the six did that. Those two were also much more radiant, practically glowing.

Following the path back up and into another cavern corridor, I eventually reached another burial room. But this time, no draugr awoke to attack me, and I became suspicious. Only a few out of several dozen dead had awakened, but it seemed odd that none were rising here. It wasn't until I turned my back to move on when I heard the sound of stone against stone as the lid to a stone casket was pushed to the side.

Slowly, I turned around, my swords all ready in my hands. A draugr was standing behind me. But this one was different. It was taller and broader shouldered than the others were, and it wore ancient iron armor that was bound to be strong as its great sword. It only wore a breastplate and guards for its upper arms and thighs, leaving its stomach and head wide open, but this draugr bore itself differently than the others. This one was sophisticated and proud, raising its blade high above its head as if preparing to take me on in a formal duel.

"Let's dance," I challenged it. The restless draugr growled in response and we charged each other, colliding with so much force sparks flew from our steel blades and there was a stink as the rust began melting from the tension.

We were performing a waltz a death, our blades connecting with such force and volume that probably every draugr in the barrow was being awakened, but I didn't care. _This_ was the opponent I'd been looking for. The draugr fought with such speed and elegance, it was mystifying to think that a stiff, undead mummy could move as though it were alive and well. At least, that's what I thought until it caught the tip of its great sword on the wall and its arms fell off. Dispatching the quite literally unarmed draugr was embarrassing in its ease.

"So much for that," I mumbled, genuinely disappointed. "There'd better be more like you ahead."

I exited the room and entered another hall of limestone lit by an odd, luminescent moss. I went several yards down before stopping to examine an odd, rainbow-colored liquid on the ground. I stooped down low, touching my finger tips to it. It was warm despite the chilly cave air, and sticky like melted pig lard. Its smell was odd as well, almost like fuel. Dangling above the long, multicolored puddle that stretched down the rest of the hall and around a corner was a ceramic jug that appeared to have a flame lit inside of it. It was hanging by a rope that appeared as though it had been fragile even when it had first been hung up, and I recognized the primitive but effective trap.

I backed several paces away before raising my hand, aiming carefully before casting sparks at the rope. The electrical spell blew the hook that the rope hung from out of the ceiling and the jug fell to the ground, shattering. At first, nothing happened, but in just a moment the liquid erupted into a colorful blaze. Down the hall, I could hear the screams of burning draugr.

After waiting for the flames to burn out, I continued forward, finding the draugr just around the corner lying in blackened lumps. They smelled even worse after having been burned, if it was possible for age-old corpses to stink any more.

After continuing onward, I reached an abandoned cave-room, save for a lonely draugr shambling around a back corner. I dispatched it with an arrow before investigating the room. The room was mostly collapsed, including the other passage.

I continued searching the room, coming up with some more potions and gold and a handful of those odd gems I'd found before, but no other ways out of the room. I was at a loss. And if I hadn't already found it, then the golden claw most likely wasn't here.

I leaned up against a metal grate in one of the walls. It blocked off the only pass that hadn't collapsed, but it was just a drainage area for an indoor stream to run through into and I couldn't manage to break through the rusty iron bars. Destroying the rock around it also wasn't an option.

I slid down the wall, and I felt one of the straps on my quiver catch on the manacle dangling next to the grate. But rather than hold fast, the chain pulled down, like a switch, and I heard something go _thunk_ similarly to when I pulled a lever.

Unsure of what to expect, I propelled myself away from the wall, prepared for any sort of trap. But rather than having a hundred darts shot at me or a spiked wall swinging out to trap me or a ton of stones dropped on my head, the grate fell over, splashing in the stream.

"Hunh," I said, examining the new path. "Not what I was expecting."

I continued forward cautiously, but the path seemed empty all the way until it bent suddenly around a corner and I also couldn't spot any obvious traps. Continuing down the corridor gave no new surprises, save some shelves with burial urns on top of them.

As I went deeper down the corridor, I noticed more and more webs building up on the walls. I recognized the work of the frostbite spiders, only these webs also had human bodies entangled in them as well as the rats. Some of the bodies seemed like they'd been there for years, but others looked as though they'd only been there for a few days.

I continued down the hall but was brought to a halt when I found the passage into the next room completely blocked off by a thick wall of spider silk. When I pushed my hand up against it, I found that t wasn't sticky, but the intricate weaving of the thin threads had created a solid wall that I wasn't just going to walk through.

I produced one of my blades, raising it above my head before slashing the threads. They resisted at firsts, tangling the sword up, but after only a few swings I had broken through to the other side.

"Hey you, help me!" I heard someone shouting at me. "Hurry up, it's coming back!"

I heard an odd scuttling noise from the ceiling. I looked up, watching as a huge frostbite spider crawled down from the ceiling on a rope-sized strand of silk. I kept a straight face despite the hideousness of the arachnid that was five times bigger than a Clydesdale, calming drawing my blades as it clacked its hooked mandibles at me, all eight of its beady black eyes focused on me.

"Come and get some," I challenged.

"_KREE!_" it shrieked, spitting a globule of silk at me.

I dodged to the side, the sticky orb splattering against the heavy webbing on the far all, causing the skeletons of its past victims to rattle. I tried to stick my blade into its side, but its carapace was too thick and I barely made a scratch and was forced to retreat as it spun around and tried to lunge at me.

"Use fire!" the trapped man called. "They hate fire!"

"Thanks for the tip," I called back, although I still didn't know the location of him.

I raised my ancient swords in front of myself, focusing my energy. The metal began to glow with power as I funneled my magic into it, and a red blaze flared up from the hilt of the sword. The frostbite spider shrieked at me, and I charged at it, sliding under it and cleaving its legs as I passed by each one with my blazing blades held out to the sides.

It let out a scream as I stood up from its other side, collapsing to the ground as I sheathed my extinguished blades.

"Thank the gods," the man said in relief. "Now, hurry up and cut me down. I know something about the golden claw and how to get into the treasure room. If you help me, we can split the gold!"

I looked for the source of the voice, finding a tomb raider suspended in a large doorway that lead to another corridor and eventually what seemed to be some sort of embalming room or shrine.

"So you are the one who stole the golden dragon's claw from Lucan Valerius?" I inquired.

"What?" the man asked. "No, of course not. I hired those bandits outside to take care of that. If it's the claw you're after, I promise I'll give it back as soon as I'm done with it. Just get me down from here before that thing finishes regenerating its legs and calls in more of them!"

I looked over my shoulder at the giant frostbite spider. It was still alive and was struggling to lift itself up onto the little stumps that were left of its legs. I could see new legs growing from its sides already in a slimy mass. The last thing I needed was to fight a rejuvenated giant spider without any magicka, but I wasn't going to be suckered by this guy so easily.

"Give me the claw first," I demanded.

"You're bloody joking, right?" He struggled his arms, which were bound tightly to his sides. "I can't move my hands."

I looked at his side, where his satchel hung away from his body. I pulled out my dagger, slicing the bag down, opening it up and pulling out the claw which was hidden inside.

"Hey, you can't do that!" the tomb raider cried indignantly. "That's thievery!"

"Is stealing from a thief really considered theft?" I said blankly, placing the claw in my bag. "Don't worry; you've piqued my interest with the mentioning of treasure. Unless you'd rather wait up there."

"No, damn you! Just hurry up and cut me down."

I returned my dagger to its sheath, drawing my sword and slicing through the webs. The threads were easily severed, and the ensnared man fell to his knees.

"Thanks," he said quickly before snatching by bag and running off.

"You were a fool to think I'd share the treasure of the ancient Nords with anyone!" he cried victoriously as he ran. Unimpressed, I raised a hand and cast my sparks spell on him and he collapsed into a heap pulsing with blue electricity.

"You were a fool to think I'd let you get away with a move like that," I said, walking casually up to the man's twitching form. He wasn't dead; only paralyzed. I reached down, retrieving my bag and continuing forward without a second thought. By the time he recovered, the frostbite spider would have finished recovering and he'd be trapped again. Which probably meant I wasn't getting back out the same way I'd come in.

I looked around the second room, finding it to be some sort of a shrine. There wasn't much anything of value in the room, not even a few stray coins, but I came across more of those shining stones. Up on the stage there was a pedestal with a book resting wide open on top of it. As I leafed through the pages, I realized it was a tome on necromancy that explained how to put your energies into a fallen comrade or enemy to bring them back from the dead as a mindless servant. I doubted I would use magic so dark, but I took the spell tome anyways.

I continued forward without much event for a while, save the occasional draugr team and another one of the restless draugr. I realized most of them carried a few coins on them, but not enough to make much a difference. It felt too embarrassing scrounging around for a few measly coins, so I left them alone.

Eventually I reached a long hall decorated with archways and murals of various animals. At the end of the hall was a grand door crafted from tarnished plated gold, and I was instantly put on guard for any traps as I started forward. But even as I approached the door, no traps were sprung.

I examined the grand entryway. There were three rings around a circle with four round holes in it barely big enough for me to fit a finger through. I produced the golden claw, noting that the claw tips aligned perfectly with the slots in the central circle on the door. I slid the claw into position, and it fit snugly. I tried turning the circle, but it held fast. The rings around it had emblems of three different animals, and I remembered what Camilla had said about the underside of the claw.

I turned the golden trinket in my hand, discovering carvings of a bear, an owl, and a moth carved in a row on it. The emblems on the door bore similar creatures, but in a different order. I realized that this was probably a puzzle like the one at the gate at the entrance of the dungeon. By pressing the emblems, I found that they rotated on an automatic mechanism of some sort.

After aligning the emblems in the proper order, I replaced the claw to its slot in the door. This time, I could turn it all the way around until it was upside-down and it popped out of the door and back into my hands. The emblems each rotated, circling until they all were set to the owl. Then, the door opened, sliding down into the ground, grating against stone that had collected around its hidden enclosure over the centuries it'd gone unused, but nothing so much as slowed it as it slid into place. It finally went all the way below the ground with an affirming _ker-chunk_.

"Talk about the red carpet welcome," I mumbled, ascending the steep stairs that I found on the other side of the elaborate locking system. Somehow, I felt that whoever had built this shrine didn't expect anyone to make it this far and didn't bother laying any traps out, but I still proceeded semi-cautiously.

When I reached the top of the staircase, I couldn't help but stop in awe at what I found.

I'd wondered into some sort of an ancient tomb, placed remotely in the back of a deep mountain cavern. There was still some sense of the cavern's natural state, with rock outcroppings formed by the wondrous mason that was nature and waterfalls filling deep, crystal pools in the ground serenely. In the very back of the cavern was a sort of dais, at the top of which was a lone coffin and a treasure chest.

I climbed up the dais steps, immediately going to the chest. Inside, I found a fair stash of gold along with gemstones and radiant crystals and an odd set of iron armor. It not only seemed much sturdier than my mixed Imperial and Stormcloak suit, but somehow I could tell that magic had been worked into it to give it extra strength. Coincidentally enough, it seemed a perfect fit for me, and I promptly changed into it. I almost put on the helmet, but it still seemed too much more of an extra distraction than it did any sort of help to me.

I looked at the coffin. There was an odd power radiating from it, almost omnipotent. Some morbid curiosity prodded at my mind to slide the lid aside and gaze upon what was within, but I also could tell that I didn't want to see what was hiding within.

There was another power tugging at my mind behind me, and I turned around, finding a great monolith of some sort with numerous odd runes etched into its stone. A row of them at my eye level were glowing, and I could somehow find myself reading and understanding them.

"Fus," I whispered. _Force._

I heard the grinding sound of a coffin lid sliding from its box and the crashing sound of the lid breaking against ground. Cursing silently, I turned around, already drawing my blades as I sensed the awakening of a powerful foe.

A draugr rose out of the coffin, but it was different than the other ones. This one had more presence; more power. It was taller than the other draugr were, and could even look down on me. It was wearing full armor, and it carried an ancient great sword that seemed imbued with the powers of frost.

"Fus!" it shouted in a voice distorted by death.

A shockwave shot from its mouth, knocking me back and against the monolith like a ragdoll, the ringing in my ears and my blurry vision reminding me of the dragon back at Helgen. Though it wasn't nearly as devastating as the dragon's blast, it was still painful, and by the time I'd recovered the draugr was already on me and I was forced into the defensive as it swung its great sword wildly at me without relent.

I struggled to keep up with the draugr that was an overlord of draugr in terms of power. Its attacks were disorganized and random, but that proved to be its greatest strength. There was no constant pattern for me to get into the loop of and to use against it; I was struggling just to keep up with the attacks, let alone launch any of my own.

The draugr overlord released another shockwave from its mouth. This time, I allowed it to carry me away and off the platform, putting some distance between us so that I could recover my injuries with some potions and healing magic.

_Damn!_ I thought to myself. _I can't manage to keep up. By the time I've finished recovering from one of its attacks, it's already launching a new one. I could try fighting it from a range with magic and my arrows to avoid that great sword, but that shockwave…It's tearing me to pieces._

I raised my blades, charging them with sparks, launching into a blade flurry on the draugr, but it easily blocked all of my attacks with that flat of its sword before countering.

Suddenly, I remembered some scrolls I'd picked up earlier. They were about extremely powerful spells called fireball and blizzard, but I hadn't used them yet because a warning on them said that the scrolls emitted their own power for use of the magic, and a spell caster whose level in the arcane arts wasn't high enough would be incapable of replicating the spells a second time.

"Good a time as any to use them," I thought aloud, sheathing my swords and producing the fireball scroll. The spells required two hands to charge and then cast, and I already knew that the draugr seemed weak to fire.

I started focusing my energy into the scroll, and it magnified my power tenfold, bursting into a ball of red flame. The draugr seemed to realize just what I was doing and started running to interrupt my spell before I could use it. I knew that this spell could be my only chance, and if I allowed the draugr to get me with one good strike, the spell would be interrupted and the scroll destroyed.

I had nearly charged the scroll to its max and was ready to release the power, but when the draugr overlord shouted "Fus!" I knew it was too late as a shockwave hurtled toward me, knocking me off my feet and effectively interrupting the spell.

The draugr sauntered over to me, knowing it had won as I was left splayed out on the ground, exposed. As it loomed above me, it chattered in an unintelligible language, no doubt savoring its first victory in years since death.

But I wouldn't have it.

My senses no longer my own, I uttered three words whose meaning I failed to understand, but I knew they were the right ones to say: "_Mul qah diiv._"

Tremendous power filled my body and soul. I felt as though I was practically expanding from the power behind the words that my mouth had formed without my consent. But before I could get a full taste of the foreign power, I blacked out.

**End Chapter**

_Author's Note_: Quite the finale, wouldn't you say? Especially those of you who know what exactly it was that Gio had said. And for those of you who do know, please try to refrain from putting spoilers in your Reviews (so long as you actually leave a Review). So, what would you say to this chapter? Only chapter three and already Gio is having near-death experiences and is sub-consciously using powerful magic. So, this chapter has about 7.5 thousand words long and is fourteen pages long, give or take on both accounts. Well, hope you liked it. Not quite as in-depth or to-the-game accurate as I promised, but, hell, I'm not writing a walkthrough; I'm writing a god damned FanFic! So, Favorite, Follow, and/or Review, maybe leave your favorite waifu/hubby in the Reviews so I can do a short for you with a little bit of fluff between them and Gio (or a generated female character). Until my next chapter (which is hopefully going to be mid-length), see you all later, and enjoy the Fun Fact.

_Fun Fact_: For those of you unfamiliar with the metric system, a meter is about equivalent to a yard and six inches, a kilometer is about three-quarters of a mile, and a centimeter is either half or a third of a inch (I myself am foreign to the metric system; I only use it here because it's period-appropriate). Also, I will be using the term 'league' a lot later on, which is equivalent to three miles or however far you are capable of walking in an hour (note that a league is neither a metric or other sort of measurement, as it is a rough judge of distance based on how far one can walk in an hour, three miles being the average).


	4. Chapter 4: Bloodshed

_Disclaimer_: I **_DO NOT_** own the iconic gaming franchise The Elder Scrolls by Bethesda Game Studios nor am in any way associated with them or their affiliates other than through the purchasing of their various products.

_Author's Note_: Decent length chapter coming up. This will take Gio about as far as Whiterun before the End Chapter probably, and there won't be a whole lot of action going on, save a few short skirmishes. Interesting plot twist that I'll be including that isn't in the original game, but I'll leave you all to read now.

**Chapter 4: Bloodshed**

I blinked my eyes open. I tried sitting up, but my limbs felt as though they were full of lead and my body felt as though it were ablaze. Whatever had happened when I blacked out, it was exhaustive, and my thoughts were all fuzzy.

At last the burning sensation subsided and I could move again, and I only felt a little numb as I crawled slowly to my feet. Remembering the draugr overlord, I looked around frantically for it, but found nothing more than a pile of ash crackling with blue electricity, the draugr's sword and an odd-looking stone lying near the pile.

"What's this thing?" I thought aloud, picking up the stone. It was relatively large but not very heavy. It felt old, maybe older than the undead monster that'd been carrying it. I slid it into my satchel, deciding that maybe I could sell it later. I took the great sword as well, merely out of curiosity of the magic imbued within its steel. I'd have to examine it later.

I looked around the cavern. It was in ruins, as though some gargantuan beast had gone on a rampage. Almost as though a dragon had been here.

"As if," I told myself.

There was a new opening that had been blasted through the monolith. I examined the gaping hole, finding it to have opened up a secret corridor. Knowing that this might be a way out, I entered the crude tunnel.

It wasn't much more than a few meters long, and I came into some sort of a cave after only a minute of walking. Set into one wall was a little shrine of some sort with a skull on top of it and a ring of flowers. There was an assortment of other flowers as well, and I realized that it must have been some sort of a grave.

What really caught my interest was the opening at the opposite end of the small cave, and I could see light shining dully through. It was an exit; it had to be.

I walked through the opening and into crisp, night air. I found myself partially up the side of a mountain, and the stars and a crescent moon were shining brilliantly in the night sky, providing plenty enough luminescence to see by.

There was no clear path down from the outcropping I stood on, but I managed to get down after only a few minutes of jumping from ledge to ledge and sliding down gravely slopes. At the base of the mountain stone gave immediately way to soil, with flowers, shrubs, and tall trees growing thickly all around.

I raised my hand into the air, casting the clairvoyance spell that Camilla had taught me on the way up. My vision faded slightly, but a path of light appeared in front of me, leading me to my desired destination. I broke off the spell, as it drained my magicka quickly than most spells did. It wouldn't be hard to find my way just by casting and recasting the spell a few moments at a time.

Under this method, I eventually came across a little cabin set in a clearing. As I approached, I saw a frail-looking old woman sitting on a rocker, napping lightly in it. When I got closer, she looked up curiously at me.

"Oh, hello," she greeted me. "A little lost, are you?"

"I'm fine," I told her, "but I could use a place to rest."

"I have room in my cabin, dear," she said. "My name is Anise."

I looked at the cabin. It didn't even look big enough for one.

"Do you live alone out here?" I asked.

She nodded her head. "Yes. I rather like my privacy. I can do what I like out here without causing any trouble."

"There she is!" I heard a deep voice call out suddenly. "Kill the witch!"

A trio of heavily armored bandits burst from the trees, drawing heavy weapons.

"You should never have come here!" the old woman shouted, jumping up from her chair, her elderly gentleness suddenly replaced by a great ferocity. She raised her hands, and two columns of red flames leapt from them, engulfing the bandits.

"You'll need to do better than that!" the lead bandit said, breaking from the inferno and moving to take a jumping slash at the defenseless old woman.

"Not on my watch," I said, moving in the way and crossing my dual swords to block his great sword.

I kicked him away, casting sparks at him. The low-level spell didn't seem to do much harm to him, but it had clearly drained his stamina as it was intended to do. While he was left exposed as he struggled for breath, I executed him with a dual slash. The old woman had already fried the other two.

"You're pretty good," I complimented, sheathing my blades as I turned to face Anise. "Maybe you could teach me in magic some time."

But as I turned, I barely managed to throw up a ward as she dual casted her magic at me.

"Now you know my secret!" she shrieked. "Now you must die!"

Our magicka ran out at the same time, and she drew a dagger while I produced my enchanted great sword. She lunged at me, but didn't get anywhere near me before the bite of my blade killed her.

"Too bad," I said uncompassionately, giving her a kick to confirm that she was dead. She was wearing expensive mage robes, but I wasn't in the mood for looting. I was tired and needed rest. So I infiltrated her home, curling up on her bed and falling asleep, dreaming through the remainder of the night.

six hours later

I finished readjusting my armor, standing up and preparing to make the last leg of my journey back to Riverwood. I'd shot an elk for breakfast, and had looted the bandits and Anise for a purse-full of coins and a tome on magic mastery.

Following the clairvoyance spell, I walked around the mountain and along a river. I spotted Riverwood across the wide river, and before long I was positioned right so that I could see Bleak Falls Barrow atop the snowcapped mountain. By the time the sun was high in the sky, I was making my way across the bridge and into Riverwood, but something seemed wrong.

Hadvar and Ralof were arguing at the gate, Ralof saying something about "this being proof that the Imperial Legion is made up of filthy dogs."

"What's happened?" I asked them, interrupting their argument.

"Imperials attacked Camilla on her way down the mountain," Ralof answered first. "She said that they were trying to take advantage of her. If it weren't for Faendal and Sven, they probably would have—"

"Is she alright?" I asked, interrupting the Nord man.

"She's resting in her home right now," Hadvar said. "You can visit her if you like, but Lucan has been put in a bad mood."

"Okay, I'll go see her. I have something to return to them anyway."

I jogged over to the Riverwood Trader, walking in through the door and ringing the bell. There was nobody on the first floor, but when I climbed the stairs to the second floor I found Camilla sitting up in her bed with Lucan cooking over the stovetop.

"Welcome back, Gio," Camilla greeted me, causing Lucan to look up at me.

"Forgive me, Lucan Valerius," I begged, bowing to him. "You entrusted me with your sister's safety, and I let her get hurt."

Lucan sighed. "Stand up, Gio. It's not your fault. It's mine. If I hadn't burdened you with my own problems—nay—if I had just let the whole thing go from the start like Camilla told me, nothing like this would have happened in the first place. The fault is mine."

"I'm really fine," Camilla insisted, the proof in her voice. "It's the two who saved me we should be worried about. That wood elf got hurt, and those Imperials arrested the bard for interfering with 'Imperial business.'"

"Wood elf and bard?" I asked, straightening.

"Faendal and Sven," Lucan said. "They work for Gerdur at the mill, but they're both always too busy trying to woo Camilla with honeyed words and feats of hunting. Faendal was severely injured, but Sven was taken away in binds."

"I'm sorry," I said. I pulled the dragon's claw from my bag. "I retrieved the claw from the Barrow. It's fine if you don't pay me; I know what kind of trouble that I caused in retrieving this."

"I told you it's not your fault," Lucan said. "You'll be paid in full; five hundred gold pieces."

Lucan walked over to a chest, unlocking it and producing a large purse of coins from it. He walked over to me, handing it over.

"There's your payment," he said. "If you'd like, you can stay for lunch."

I declined his offer; now that this job was done, I needed to get to Whiterun as soon as possible. Before I left, I traded some of my excess with him before leaving the shop. Outside I found Gerdur, Hod, and Ralof waiting for me, as well as an odd-looking young man with white hair.

"Gerdur, Hod, Ralof," I greeted them. "Do you need something? And who is this?"

"This is Faendal," Gerdur said, "the Bosmer wood elf who helped Camilla. He wishes to accompany you to Whiterun."

"Greetings, Gio Dragonsbane," the elf said. "I am Faendal, a huntsman. I have business to be taken care of in Whiterun, and when I overheard Gerdur and Hod saying that you were also heading that way, I thought that we might be travel companions."

"Faendal is an excellent archer," Ralof said. "You'd be wise to take him with you in these dark times. There is strength in numbers."

I looked the Bosmer down. He seemed a bit lean, but that was by human standards and I was unsure how a healthy elf would look. He had a bow slung over his shoulder and a sword belted at his hip.

"As far as Whiterun, I don't see why not," I said. "You seem capable, wood elf."

"I will not let you down," he assured me. He produced a coin purse and handed it to me. "Take this as a token of our companionship."

I accepted the purse, though it only had a few coins in it.

"Do you know if Alvor has restocked on supplies?" I asked the Nords. "This armor is strong, but I'd prefer something lighter so I can move faster without so much hindrance."

"I'm afraid not, foreigner," Gerdur said. "Alvor's next shipment isn't due until tomorrow."

"I see," I said in distaste. "I'll be going then. Can you point me in the right way to Whiterun?"

"Faendal knows the way," Gerdur said, "but take this. It's a map of Skyrim. All of the major cities of the realm are labeled on it, as well as Riverwood. Feel free to mark any other locations of your interest on it."

I nodded my head, scanning over the map. As well as Riverwood, Whiterun, and various other cities, I saw Bleak Falls Barrow, the Guardian Stones, and a mine called Embershard Mine labeled on the map. I rolled it up and placed it in my bag.

"Shall we be going then, Gio?" Faendal asked. "We have a lot of ground to cover."

"Aye," I said to him, then to the others, "Farewell, Gerdur, Hod, Ralof. You have all been good friends to me, and I hope that we might meet again one day."

"One day soon, I hope," Ralof agreed.

"Farewell, friend," Gerdur said. "May you die with a sword in your hand."

"Be sure to stop by for a mug of mead some time," Hod said cheerily. Gerdur seemed less cheery about the remark, but she said nothing.

"You lead the way, Faendal," I said to the wood elf. He nodded his head, starting down the dirt road.

I followed after him, hardly looking back. But when I did, I saw Camilla and Lucan outside as well, and when they saw me, they waved, and I couldn't help but wave back. Only a day since I was born anew without a past, without a future, and yet already I had so many friends in the present. I felt blessed, despite my accursed beginning.

Faendal and I walked in silence. We had nothing to say to each other, so why bother trying to make conversation where there was none? We continued like that for several tens of minutes before Faendal hushed me (which really wasn't necessary) and gestured for me to take cover behind a boulder.

The Bosmer peeked around the side of the rock.

"Those are the men from the Legion who tried to rape Camilla," he said.

I peeked over the top of the rock. Not far down the road I saw a team of five Imperials. In the middle of their group was a Nord man wearing plain clothes and bound with ropes. They were talking with a pair of Imperial guardsmen.

"Is that Sven?" I asked.

Faendal nodded his head. "Sven and I have been feuding for Camilla's affection for years now, and I couldn't be happier if Sven was out of the picture and I could have her for myself, but subjecting him to the Imperial Legion is unthinkable. And with what those men did to my Camilla, I can't just let them go."

"Slow down, pointy ears," I said. "They outnumber us, three to one, and Sven is defenseless with his hands tied like that. I'll go down there, and once I'm close, I want you to distract them by shooting at one of them. I'll untie Sven, but I'll need a weapon to lend to him."

"Take this," Faendal said, handing me a hatchet. "It's not much, but Nord's love their axes."

I accepted the hatchet. It wasn't much, but it was keen and would have to do.

"Okay, let's do this."

I stood up from the boulder and continued down the dirt road casually. I went as far as the soldiers before stopping, looking curiously at them.

"Do you need something?" their captain asked me.

I shook my head, not saying anything.

"Well, move along then," he said. "You'll not find anyone to hire you here, sellsword."

An arrow suddenly sprouted from the Captain's shoulder, and the soldiers were thrown into instant chaos in search of their stealthy attacker. Seizing the opportunity, I produced my dagger, cutting Sven's bindings and handing him the hatchet.

"Fight for your life, singer," I told him as he looked at the axe in confusion. I produced my rusted steel blades, going into a frenzy as I hacked through the disorganized soldiers.

Before long, with my finesse, Faendal's marksmanship, and Sven's surprising skill with an axe, we'd fallen all seven of the Imperial soldiers.

"Faendal," Sven greeted the wood elf distastefully. "Here to show me up for Camilla?"

"Another time," I said before they could start arguing. "Faendal and I head for Whiterun. I'm sure you can find your own way back to Riverwood, bard."

"Actually, I was headed for Whiterun before these Redguard Imperials arrested me," Sven said.

"Then perhaps you might consider coming with us? It would seem as though we all have a common destination in mind."

The two rivals glared at each other, but they mumbled their consent. After the show we'd just put on, it was obvious that we made for an excellent team.

After searching the soldiers, we came up with proper weapons for Sven and a fair amount of gold that we all split equally. Faendal also recommended that we all take torches from them, since our trip to Whiterun may last into the night depending on what the roads were like. I let them each take their own, but I'd discovered in the Barrow that I seemed to have adequate low-light vision.

We continued for several hours in the direction of Whiterun. I read various spell tomes that I'd bought from Lucan as we walked, receiving pointers from Faendal as I needed them.

"You must be quite the user of destruction magic," Faendal noted as I turned through my third tome.

"How do you mean?" I asked.

"There are five variations or more properly schools of magic," he said. "They are alteration, conjuration, destruction, illusion, and restoration. Sometimes enchantment and alchemy are included, but enchantment is more related to smithing and alchemy is more of a science."

"Interesting. What do the different schools do?"

"The names are self-explanatory. Alteration alters the world, usually to form magical barriers or to poison targets; conjuration is a form of necromancy as well as a school that can be used to summon beings from Oblivion; destruction is purely offensive magic that uses the elements of fire, lightning, and ice or frost; illusion is used to manipulate the minds of those around you to make them afraid, aggressive, or even calm; and lastly restoration magic is used for healing and its own forms of magical barriers."

"There sure are a lot of different spells out there," I said thoughtfully. "It's almost intimidating."

"Most people focus on only one particular school," Faendal said. "If you want to know more about magic, you should visit the college in Winterhold. The best mages in Skyrim study there."

We continued forward without many breaks, making idle conversation and fighting off the occasional pack of wolves or bandits. Only an hour after the sun had dipped below the horizon, we'd reached the farmlands on the outskirts of Whiterun.

"We should wait until morning before trying to enter the city," Sven said. "The guards don't always like letting in late-night visitors. We could ask around the farms for beds to sleep in for the night, but if we can't find any then we'll just set up tents and sleep outside."

We didn't spend long searching. Sven and Faendal had found rooms for rent at a farm run by a family of Dunmer dark elves, but I was forced to take refuge in a separate farmhouse. The straw bed wasn't uncomfortable, but it took nearly another hour before I finally fell asleep.

ten hours later

I stepped out the front door of the farmhouse, still stretching the sleep from my limbs. Sven and Faendal would already be in Whiterun; I'd told them to go ahead without me so I could get some extra rest. I still hadn't fully recovered since my delve into the Bleak Falls Barrow and our trip to the central trade city had taken what little strength I had left out of me.

"Please, sir!" I heard a girl cry. "You have to help us!"

I turned to see the daughter of the farmer come running up to me, flailing her arms. She was a pretty, young thing, not even sixteen yet according to her father, and waiting for a husband. It had almost sounded to me like he was trying to engage us.

"What's wrong, child?" I asked her as she reached me.

"A giant," she said, panting. "A giant is attacking our fields. The Whiterun guards aren't any match for it with their flimsy swords. Please, sir, you have to run it off!"

I looked past the girl to the said field. I could see a great behemoth of a man, wielding a club the size of a tree in one hand and using the other to scoop up large handfuls of cabbages and throw them down its throat.

"I've got this," I assured her, loosening my swords in their scabbards as I approached the behemoth.

"Hey!" I called out to it, earning its attention as it was halfway through to tossing another handful of cabbages down its gullet.

"Puny human," it said in a barely audible, thunderous growl. "Run home or die."

"That's how it's going to be, huh?" I said in amusement. The man—if it could be considered such—was nearly five times taller than me and even wider, but through some bravado I thought I could take it on.

I produced my swords, taking the first attack. I moved much faster than the lumbering behemoth, and by the time it'd raised its club I was already hacking and slashing at its legs. However, despite the ferocity of my blows I was only scratching it and was forced to make a desperate dodge to avoid its huge club.

"Me will crush you, human," the giant growled at me.

This time there was no time to dodge the giant's attack and I was forced to raise my blades in a block that was pathetic in comparison to the tremendous blow that rocketed me backwards.

"Well, melee isn't going to get this done," I mumbled, sheathing my swords and readying my sparks.

I dual cast the destruction spell at the giant, but I scarcely fazed it and it just kept coming at me. I tried switching to flames and even trying out my new frostbite spell, but none of them were working.

"Die!" it roared, raising its club for a final, fatal blow.

I braced myself, knowing that there was nothing I could do. Just before the giant was about to drop its bludgeon, an arrow penetrated the side of its head. The quill was the equivalent of a mosquito bite, but it definitely got the behemoth's attention as it stopped mid-swing.

Riding in from the gates of Whiterun's exterior wall was a team of four horsemen, all of them whooping and shouting and raising bows above their heads and firing off arrows at the giant. Running their mounts hard, they reached the giant fast, dismounting their horses as they ran and drawing weapons better suited for melee. One of the men produced a war hammer, another a great sword, and the third kept at a distance as he fired off steel arrows at the giant's face. The only woman in the group, who seemed to be their leader, wielded a sword and shield. Despite her light weaponry, her furious blows seemed to be having the most effect on the giant.

I charged back into the fray, sensing the turning of the tides as I hacked into the giant with my dual blades. Together with the other warriors, we cut the giant down little by little before it ultimately fell, defeated once and for all.

The three men gave out hearty cheers and laughed, congratulating each other with hard pats on the back as they climbed atop the giant's back, throwing their fists in the air and stamping their feet on its back. The woman, who had long, brown hair hanging loose down her back and bluish-black war paint on her face, seemed much more composed as she gazed in deep satisfaction at the kill. When she noticed me, she walked over to me.

"You're either very brave," she said, "or very stupid to have thought you could take on a giant by yourself. Which one was it?"

I didn't respond.

"What?" she asked, chuckling slightly. "Saber cat got your tongue?"

"Who are you?" I asked her.

"I am Aela the Huntress of The Companions," she said. "And you are?"

"You may call me Gio Dragonsbane."

"Dragonsbane? I hope you earned that surname and didn't simply inherit it. We could use some dragon killers right about now."

"So you know about the sudden appearance of dragons?"

"Evidently you don't know about The Companions. We know things, although I can't say we know you." She smiled. "Despite that foolish display back there, I like your style. The Companions could use someone like you. What do you say?"

"I've got things that need be taken care of right now," I told her. "Maybe another time."

"Maybe," she said, examining me carefully. "If you ever change your mind, you can find us in Jorrvaskr in Whiterun. Talk to Kodlak about joining."

"I will, when the time is right. Farewell, Aela the Huntress."

"Farewell, Gio the Brave Fool."

I furrowed my brows at the comment, unsure of what to make of it as Aela and her companions retrieved their horses, walking them back to the gates of Whiterun. The farmer and his family tried to reward me for saving their farm, but I insisted that it was nothing and departed with only their thanks and wishes that I would return again.

I started for Whiterun, but not before noticing the black wolf-hound from Helgen. It was sitting at the edge of a cluster of trees, watching intently. When it noticed me looking, it turned and walked into the trees, disappearing from sight.

Without giving it anymore regard, I continued through the exterior wall, receiving no attention from the guards on duty. It wasn't until I'd reached the gate that lead inside the city that I was halted by a guard clad in ruddy yellow.

"State your business, traveler," he told me.

"I bring urgent news from Helgen for the Jarl of Whiterun," I said, rather formally.

"Helgen? Jarl Balgruuf will want to speak to you personally. Head for Dragonsreach, quickly."

_That didn't take much persuasion,_ I thought as I passed through the gates into the city. _Almost makes you worried._

But, it'd have to do, like everything else in this world.

**End Chapter**

_Author's Note_: Ugh, sorry for the crappy closing. But, I guess not all of my endings to chapters can be met with cliffhangers that leave Gio in positions that could inevitably lead to his demise. I had actually intended to leave off with after they killed the giant, but I kinda went into a trance and couldn't stop writing and didn't want to lose all of this precious material, so… *shrugs* Guess that I could've just copy-and-pasted it into the next chapter or whatever, but, you know. Anyways, 4.2 thousand words and ten pages made up this chapter. Impressive enough, I'll say. Now, be sure to leave a Review, Favorite, Follow, and remember that the waifu/hubby fluff is still up for grabs. Now, enjoy the Fun Fact.

_Fun Fact_: I spent a good eight straight hours working on this chapter and am still raring to go. I might just wind up posting two chapters back-to-back, which would be a feat for this Fic.


	5. Chapter 5: Wings of Despair

_Disclaimer_: I **_DO NOT_** own the iconic gaming franchise The Elder Scrolls by Bethesda Game Studios nor am in any way associated with them or their affiliates other than through the purchasing of their various products.

_Author's Note_: I'm feeling invigorated as I'm starting up chapter five to my slowly growing Gio Dragonsbane series, but we'll see how long that lasts as it is currently three in the morning here and I'm expecting this one to be a long one. Also I am announcing that Gio Dragonsbane may be broke down into three or more separate Fics do to how long it is bound to turn out; I guess we'll just wait and see. I mean, it's not like there's a limit, am I right? No, seriously, am I?

**Chapter 5: Wings of Despair**

The interior of Whiterun was an impressive sight. The dirt road gave way to a street paved with cobblestone, and people walked up and down the road without a care in the world. Right at the entrance there was a forge, and before I knew what I was doing I was being drawn towards it.

"Excuse me," I said to a woman who was laboring over a breastplate on a table, "but where is the master of this forge? I'd like to make an order."

"You're talkin' to 'er," the woman said, hardly looking up.

"Oh, excuse me. What is your name?"

"Adrianne Avenicci, but most folks just call me the Warmaiden." She stood up from the workbench, wiping her hands off on a rag. "So, what can I fix you with?"

"Something light, but sturdy," I said vaguely.

"Light but sturdy? So, do you hide or leather or fur or…?"

"Steel or iron would be preferable."

"Light armor made of steel?" she scoffed. "What do I look like to you, an elf?"

"No, not at all," I assured her. She was clearly Imperial. "If that's too much to ask, I could use a pair of new blades, unless you could improve on these."

I unbelted my ancient Nord swords, laying them out on the table. The smith drew one of them, inspecting the tarnished metal.

"It could be easy enough," she said, "but I got a better deal. I'll give you some lessons in smithing and then you can use materials to make your own armor and weapons whenever you want."

"It won't take long, will it?"

"It'll take all of an hour at most, depending on how much raw talent you have. Here, take this ore over to the smelter."

She handed me a chunk of rock with silvery metal webbing through it. Somehow, I sensed that it was iron.

The Warmaiden didn't give me any further instruction, but a natural instinct drove me as I placed the ore within the smelter. The red flames within quickly melted it, and I poured the liquid iron into a mold. After a few long minutes, it cooled off and was now a refined ingot.

"Good work," Adrianne complimented me as I showed her my finished my product. "Now take this deer hide over to the tanning rack and make some leather out of it. Then, slice it up into some strips."

I did as I was told, and in another few minutes, I was being complimented once more for my work.

"Not bad; you seem to have a real knack for this." She nodded to the forge fire. "Now, melt down that ingot you made and shape it into a dagger. Use the leather strips you made to shape a handle for it."

This part took much more work than I'd expected. Like at the smelter, I had to melt the iron down and cool it, but at the same time that it cooled I had to hammer and fold it into shape. At first I thought I was doing it wrong as this process took much more time, but eventually I came up with a rather charming knife.

"Impressive," Arianne said, scrutinizing the dagger. "But even the finest Dwemer smiths couldn't forge a blade that was born already sharp. Take this to the grindstone and polish and sharpen it up a little."

The grinding was the easiest part of all, and though it took time, I soon had a hairsplitting blade.

"The finest dagger I've ever seen from a beginner." She handed me some leather and strips. "Now, craft this into a leather helmet. It'll be easier if you use heat from the forge fire to make the leather more malleable, but don't go igniting it on me."

Shaping the leather into armor required more finesse than pounding out iron into a weapon, but after a little bit of work, I came up with a finished product.

"Of course your work isn't finished here," the smith said. "Now, reinforce it with some more leather at the workbench."

Like at the grindstone, it took several minutes to shape the leather together into a sturdier form, but it was easy enough.

"You have the mark of a master," Adrianne said at last. "I can't believe how well you did."

"Is that all then?" I asked her.

"No. Now you need to pay for all this tutoring I gave you."

"Hey, you didn't say—"

"Now, now, I just want you to run a little errand for me," she said. "You see, my father is Proventus Avenicci, steward of Jarl Balgruuf in Dragonsreach. I've been trying for a long time now to impress the Jarl, and I think I've come up with a weapon to earn his attention. But with this civil war going on and all these bandits and now the gossip of dragon attacks in Skyrim, he's been in a rather poor mood lately. My father knows the Jarl better than most, so he'll know when it'll be the right time to give it to him. Can you deliver this great sword to him for me?"

She produced a steel great sword from under the workbench, its blade wrapped in cloth. Carefully, she handed it to me, and I accepted it with equal care. I could almost feel the power of the weapon through the cloth.

"With grace and dignity," I assured the Warmaiden with a nod. I slid the great sword into my bag, which I'd discovered to be quite depthless, though I could still feel the weight of what was contained within it.

"Thank you," she said. "I'll take up that request of yours as well. The Battle-Born are running me ragged, but I like the challenge you've proposed to me."

"Then I should be thanking you," I told her. I nodded towards my swords, still resting on the workbench. "Think you could pretty those up for me too while you're at it? I'd do it myself but I need to speak to Jarl Balgruuf immediately."

"Of course," she said. "For you, I'll put them at the top of my priority list. Of course, you'll still need to pay all of this."

"Money is no issue," I assured her. Last I counted, I had more than 2,000 gold accumulated.

I departed, following the Imperial woman's directions to Dragonsreach. I ended up stopping in the square just ahead though, listening in on a woman who was shouting furiously at a man who was using nothing but honeyed words and seductive prods, but she was having none of it.

"Just go away, Mikael," she growled, "before I call the guards."

"Okay, okay," the man said. "Have it your way. I'll be in the Bannered Mare if you need anything."

The Nord man, clearly a bard, sauntered away and into a building not far from the stall where he and the woman had been arguing.

"Was that man giving you trouble?" I asked the woman, who was still looking flustered.

"Like you wouldn't believe," she said. "He's a bard who plays at the Bannered Mare just over there. A real lady's man, or so he thinks. Every day is like this. He comes by my stall and throws a bunch of flirts my way then goes back over to the inn and brags about how he's going to 'conquer me just as any true Nord conquers any mountain.' Bah, he's disgusting."

"If you'd like," I offered, "I could speak to him."

"Go ahead and try, but I doubt anything will get through that thick skull of his."

Ignoring my more urgent mission at hand, I entered the inn that Mikael had gone into. Inside there was a fire pit in the center of a large room, a bar set off to one side with a woman who I assumed was the innkeeper standing behind it, passing out drinks to patrons.

"Oh, hello," she greeted me. "Do you need something?"

"I'm fine," I insisted. "Just looking for someone."

She looked suspiciously at me but said nothing. Standing one side of the fire I saw Mikael, singing a song and playing on some sort of lute for the patrons.

"Mikael," I said to him.

"Do you need something?" he asked me, still strumming his instrument. "I'm kind of in the middle of a performance.

"You need to leave that woman at the vegetable stall alone," I told him.

He finished his song before putting down his lute and turning to face me.

"Oh, you mean Carlotta Valentia? Yes, she's quite the feisty widow. But she's mine, pal. She just doesn't know it yet."

"Come on, leave her alone," I persuaded. "There must be plenty of other beautiful women out there."

Mikael grinned. "What's this? Is my foreign friend jealous? I'm sorry, but she's already spoken for."

"Fine," I growled. "You leave Carlotta alone, or I'll make you."

"What you want to fight?" Mikael challenged. "Fine, it's a fight you're going to get. No swords, no sorcery. Just a one-on-one brawl."

He kicked some chairs aside, and the gathered patrons instantly went into an uproar as they realized what was happening. The woman behind the bar tried to calm everyone, but they wouldn't listen.

Mikael made the first swing, but I easily dodged the clumsy blow, along with the second. His third punch connected, but he hit me right in my iron platemail, and he pulled his hand back, shaking it from pain.

I stuck next, landing blows in his kidneys, chest, and head. The Nord bard struggled to keep up, but he just had no expertise in brawling. In finality, I gave him a solid uppercut, and he fell over backwards.

"Okay, okay!" he stuttered. "Y-you win. I'll leave Carlotta alone. Just don't hit me again."

"You've got yourself a deal," I said. Without another word, I left the bar to report to Carlotta.

"I can't believe you did it," she said after I confirmed to her that Mikael wouldn't be bothering with her anymore. "Here I thought that he was the unconquerable mountain. Well, you sure showed the both of us. My name is Carlotta. What's yours?"

"Gio."

"Gio," she repeated, almost tasting the word in her mouth. "What a handsome name, however foreign. Well, Gio, I owe you my gratitude. Here, it isn't much, but I hope it's enough for the trouble."

She handed me a coin purse filled with a hundred coins.

"This really isn't necessary," I assured her, trying to give the coins back. "Somebody needed to put him in his place eventually."

"Well, if you won't take it as a reward, then take it as a bribe to come see me and my daughter again," she said, folding my fingers around the purse.

I stared at her a moment before finally nodding my head. Without another word, I continued toward Dragonsreach, hoping that no more distractions would present themselves. None did, and after climbing several flights of stairs, I was standing on a wooden bridge decorated with arching beams similar to the ones that were at Bleak Falls Barrow only on a much smaller scale.

"Hold," a guard commanded, and we went through the same routine as I did with the guard outside before he let me inside the keep.

Somehow, the building seemed larger on the inside than it seemed from the outside. The entire front hall was open space, with two long tables down either side with a large hearth fire blazing brightly in the center of the room. At the end of the hall was a man sitting lazily on a throne, listening uninterestedly to a soldier giving a report of some kind.

I started forward, but was stopped at the hearth fire by an elf woman with dark skin. If I remembered what Faendal had taught me about the different races of Skyrim, she was a Dunmer, or dark elf.

"What is your business with Jarl Balgruuf?" she challenged me, her hand on the sword strapped to her hip. Her accent was thick, though not quite in the same way as the Nord.

"I have a message from Helgen," I said dryly, the routine getting old. Almost fortunately, she broke the same old pattern.

"It'll have to wait," she said. "The Jarl hasn't the time for petty requests from the Imperials to join their cause. He's quite busy handling our own problems, foreigner."

"This is urgent," I told her. "A dragon has burned Helgen to the ground, and is making its way towards Whiterun as we speak."

"Gods I hope you're joking," the Dunmer said, but at last she surrendered and escorted me towards the man on the throne.

We approached, keeping silent until he finished with the Whiterun soldier. They seemed to be discussing how to handle bandits that had been raiding the farms outside Whiterun.

"What can I do for you, foreigner," the Nord man asked me.

"My name is Gio Dragonsbane, and I bring dire news from Helgen, Jarl Balgruuf," I said. "A black dragon attacked the village, burning it to the ground. And I fear it may be headed for Whiterun."

"A dragon? You are certain of this?"

"Yes. I had a clear view of it as the Imperials were trying to take my head."

Balgruuf grunted. "I'll not ask about your criminal past, but this is dire news indeed."

"May I speak, my Jarl?" the dark elf pleaded. "If what he says is true and the dragon is headed for Whiterun, this will mean that Riverwood will be caught in its wake. I'd recommend we send reinforcement troops at once."

"The Imperial Legion wouldn't like it for sure," the Jarl said thoughtfully. "They might take it as a threat. But at this point, I don't care what the Legion thinks. My people are in danger. We'll send a large detachment of the guard here it Whiterun to Riverwood, should the dragon attack."

"Sir, don't absurd," a man said, stepping forward from the shadow of the throne. "What proof do we have of this alleged dragon attack other than the word of some runaway prisoner? I mean, dragons are things of fairytales."

"Peace, Proventus," Balgruuf said. "I have a feeling we can trust our foreign friend here. But Gio, I would have you speak with Farengar Secret-Fire, my court wizard. He studies histories of dragons, and may want to hear of this. Come with me."

The Jarl stood up from his throne, seeming relieved to be able to get up and move. He started for a room off to one side of the hall, but I walked over to the man Proventus first.

"Are you Proventus Avenicci, steward of Jarl Balgruuf?" I asked him.

"Why do you ask, foreigner?"

"I have something for you from your daughter, Adrianne."

I produced the bound great sword from my satchel, handing it carefully to the Imperial man.

"Ah, so this is the sword she's been talking so much about," he mused. "Yes, I know what her purpose is. She's such a shy thing, unaware of her own talent. Eoruld Gray-Mane is the best smiths in Whiterun, but she rivals even him. I'll be sure to put this in the hands of the Jarl when the time is right. Here, take this."

He started to pull a coin purse from his pocket, but I shook my head.

"I'm doing this in exchange for lessons in smithing. Your daughter has already paid me in full."

"Take it anyway, foreigner. You have done my daughter a great favor."

I accepted the coin purse, and though I knew it would probably seem rude, I counted out the gold within. I found two hundred and fifty pieces. I nodded my thanks to the man, who suddenly seemed less hardened toward me, before finally entering the room Balgruuf had walked into.

Inside, there was a man in mage's robes bent over a table behind a desk, his back turned towards us. Whatever he was doing, he was doing it intently.

"Farengar," Balgruuf said, and the man spun around.

"What is it Jarl Balgruuf?" the man asked in a monotone voice.

"This man here brings ill-tidings from Helgen. There was a dragon attack, and he is the only apparent survivor."

_I only survived because I ran, _I thought, memories of the children that I'd seen at Helgen surfacing. Had they somehow escaped the village? Or where they—?

"A dragon attack?" the man said, almost sounding excited. He turned to me. "Please, you must explain in detail."

"A dragon came and ravaged the village," I said. "Once everything was reduced to rubble, it left. What more is there to tell?"

"Perhaps we could hold off on this for now, Farengar," Balgruuf suggested. "Gio will be your assistant for any necessary tasks however that may require you to go out in the field."

"I understand, Jarl Balgruuf," the wizard said. After a brief farewell, the man returned to his throne and left me with Farengar.

"So what do you need me to do?" I asked.

"I need you to retrieve an artifact known as the Dragonstone from Bleak Falls Barrow," he said. "You can find the ruins not far from Riverwood. If what I've read is true, the Dragonstone should be hidden deep within the caverns of the old keep."

"What is so special about this Dragonstone?"

"Hm? Ah, not the usual brute that I am forced to deal with, are you? To tell you the truth, I haven't the slightest idea. But from what I know, it may give us crucial clues as to this sudden return of the dragons."

I remembered the tablet I'd picked up from the ash pile that was left of the draugr overlord in the Barrow. I produced it from my bag.

"Is this is it?" I asked, passing the heavy object to Farengar.

"This…is it," Farengar said, almost sounding astonished. "Impressive, Gio. You are definitely cut from a much finer cloth than my normal assistants. This could really advance my studies on the dragons."

The Dunmer elf woman suddenly appeared in the doorway.

"Farengar, Balgruuf wants to see you," she said. "A dragon has just attacked the outpost outside of Whiterun."

"A dragon? So close?" he said, this time definitely becoming enthused. "Please, you must tell me. How big was it? Did it attack first, or was it provoked? How hot was its—"

"I haven't the answers to your questions," the elf said. She turned to me. "You. You had better come too."

She left the room, and Farengar and I followed after her and up a flight of stairs just outside the room. At the summit, I saw Balgruuf along with several guards, one of which seemed flustered. Besides the elf woman, there was only one other woman present, a Nord who wore armor similar to the Dunmer's and no helmet over her long, dark brown hair. We took up positions before him.

"Everyone is here, my Jarl," the elf woman said. "Now, tell Jarl Balgruuf what you told me."

The soldier nodded his head, and said shakily, "It came in from nowhere. We couldn't see it clearly, and before we knew what had happened, it destroyed the watch tower and killed almost everyone there. Me and another man came to deliver the news, but only I made it. Last I knew, three men were left trapped at the outpost, unable to leave or else the beast might appear again."

"We need to respond at once," Balgruuf said. "Irileth, I want you take Gio and a team of our best to the tower."

"Understood, my Jarl," the Dunmer said.

"Gio, you should also go with them. Whiterun soldiers are strong, but none of them have the same experience with dragons as you. You will follow Irileth's instruction, but I will trust you to follow your own instincts. My men at the walls will keep an eye out should you be overwhelmed and more help becomes necessary." He waved his shield bearer over, taking a banded iron shield from him.

"Take this shield from my personal armory," he said, handing it to me. "It was forged by Eoruld Gray-Mane, the best smith in Whiterun, and enchanted by Farengar so that it repels even the hottest of flames. I hope it will help you against the dragon."

I examined the round plate of iron. It was heavy, and would slow me down considerably. But, if I was to fight a dragon, I'd have to make do with it.

"Just don't make me wear a helmet," I said lightheartedly, strapping the shield onto my left forearm.

"Let's go," Irileth said, rounding up a few of the guards in the room and heading down the stairs.

She led us down the stairs, retrieving more man as we walked down the hall. Soon, including myself and her, there were a dozen men. As we marched through the keep doors, she started organizing us in teams of three.

"Gio, Lydia, you two will be with me," she said.

I looked at the Nord woman, automatically assuming her to be Lydia as she was the only other woman present. She was looking at me as well.

"Gio Dragonsbane," I introduced myself.

She faced forward again.

I snorted, turning my own gaze frontwards as we jogged down from the keep to the lowest level where the shops were at. As we passed Warmaiden's Adrianne stopped me.

"I'll catch up," I assured Irileth. She didn't ask any questions but continued the troop forward.

"I finished your swords, but I'm not quite done with the armor yet," the smith woman said. "Would you like to collect them now?"

"Yes, I could use them," I said.

She retrieved two cloth covered blades, placing them on the workbench and opening up the cloth so I could see what she'd transformed my swords into. I barely recognized them without all the black rust and edges that almost hurt to look at. One of them was still relatively dark in color, but the other was a silvery white.

"These are some fine blades," Adrianne said, looking at the two swords. "You'd be surprised to know that they're spoken of in legends." She picked up the darker one. "This is Elder Reaper, and this—" she picked up the other sword, "—is Dragon Tongue. I don't know where you found these two swords, but I'd recommend you pay their homes another visit to see what else is hiding there."

"This isn't going to mean I'll have to pay extra, does it?" I asked, gripping the hilt of Elder Reaper as the Warmaiden passed it to me.

"Not at all," she said. "A hundred gold pieces will be enough."

I counted out the coins, laying them out in a purse on the workbench before retrieving my swords. Before leaving to catch back up with the others, I also left her with the rusted great sword that I'd retrieved from the draugr overlord. If the true power of this weapon shown through only dully, I could only imagine what it would become with a little bit of polish.

The guards outside pointed me to where Irileth and the others had gone and I didn't bother with the roundabout path that brought me out of the exterior wall, instead jumping down off the top of the stone and wood walls. By avoiding the beaten path, I caught up with them before they were even halfway to the outpost.

"Glad you could join us, foreigner," Irileth said. "What did Adrianne want with you?"

"I left some swords with her that needed polishing and sharpening," I said vaguely. "Wouldn't have done to fight a dragon with no sword now would it?"

"I'm afraid to say a sword might not be very effective against a flying dragon. I hope for your sake that you can shoot a bow, or maybe cast some powerful magic."

There was no other conversation as we jogged for the outpost. It wasn't very far away, but the winding path extended the trip slightly. We stopped behind a boulder, where Irileth briefed us on our strategy.

"My team will take the tower," she said. "I'll stay at the ground level while Gio and Lydia climb up to the top."

The rest of the men were ordered to spread out, taking cover where they found it. Hopefully, we'd be in and out with the survivors before the dragon came back, but we were prepared nonetheless.

We continued the last few meters towards the tower, patches of the ground still ablaze here and there. As we drew nearer, I recognized the smell of burning flesh, and realized that the flames weren't just burning on dry grass. The sight of a dozen dead men lying dead on the ground didn't seem to do much to improve the men's spirits.

"You have to hide!" I heard a man call out desperately to us. I looked over to the tower, where a man was standing just outside of the entrance to it.

"What happened here, man?" Irileth asked, leading me and Lydia over to him while the rest of the men began taking positions and searching for any other survivors.

"It ate them, all of them," he said, hysterical. There was a roar in the distance and he cried out. "No, it's coming back! Please, gods, help me!"

I recognized the same panic that had been in Lokir. Lokir didn't live long; I doubted this man would either.

"Ready your bows, men!" Irileth ordered, the Whiterun soldiers already notching arrows on their bowstrings.

"Lydia, Gio get up that tower," Irileth ordered us.

"We're on it," I said, leading the Nord woman inside the tower. By the time we'd reached the landing halfway up, the dragon had already reached us. Another memory of Helgen surfaced at the sight of the wall blown in.

"Lydia, you wait here," I said, and she didn't make any objections. I wouldn't have either; the position offered more protection than the top of the tower.

I made it the rest of the way up, coming out onto the open top of the watch tower. Circling overhead I could see a dragon, not nearly as large as the one from Helgen though. Arrows flew nonstop at the winged beast, but the few that actually found their mark didn't seem to bother the dragon too much. It wouldn't hold still for long, attacking with fire-breathing dive bombs and otherwise staying away from the ground.

I tried out my frostbite spell on the dragon when it drew near. It clearly felt the destruction spell, turning its attention to me.

"Damn," I uttered just before it flung me off the top of the tower with a swiping of its tail.

I hit the ground hard. My armor absorbed most of the bone-breaking shock, but I was left gasping for air and could already feel ugly bruises forming on my whole backside. But what really left me realizing that my fate was sealed was when the dragon landed in front of me, walking slowly, deliberately, towards me, completely ignoring the futile attempts from the soldiers to penetrate its hide.

It growled at me in some foreign language, similar to the one the dragon at Helgen used as well as the draugr at Bleak Falls Barrow. The dragon almost seemed as though it was gloating.

"Mulqahdiiv," I said, remembering the words that I'd used at the Barrow. But this time, they had no effect.

_So this is it,_ I thought. _Saved by a dragon; killed by a dragon. Ironic how the world works._

The monster reared its head back, red flames roiling in the back of its throat, the creature growling in its ancient language. Just as I was embracing my fate, prepared to die, a black shape darted across my vision and collided with the dragon's chest, knocking it backwards and stopping it from breathing its flames.

"I can't believe it," I heard one of the soldiers saying as I sat up, finally recovering from my fall. I was shocked at what I saw.

The black wolf-hound had appeared, and was _fighting_ the dragon. It was at first clinging to the beast's neck, but when the dragon tried swiping it away, it crawled up onto the dragon's back and ripped at the tendons in its wings. No matter how much the dragon flailed, it couldn't shake the hybrid.

I drew Elder Reaper and raised my shield, charging the dragon and letting out a battle cry. The winged monstrosity tried its fire-breath on me, but it parted around my shield like water around a stone. I leapt up into the air, raising my blade and thrusting it down the dragon's maw and slicing the inside of its throat, steaming blood splashing onto my armor.

I landed soundly before the dragon as it collapsed, the wolf-hound leaping from its back and taking place at my side as the dragon gave its final breath before it crumpled. Its flesh began rapidly deteriorating, burning away and floating up into the air as little flakes. Strange as that was, it wasn't nearly as strange as the aura that spiraled from the carcass and into me, cloaking me in its odd light.

I had the sudden urge to shout, to let my voice be heard, and I had just the thing to say: "_Fus!_"

A shockwave sprung from my mouth, rocketing skywards. It flew as high as the clouds, ringing out like an explosion and parting the fluffy white clouds.

The soldiers all gathered around me, looking at me curiously. They were all mumbling and whispering things, but two words where said most frequently, "Dragonborn" and "Shout".

"This is an impressive turning of events," Irileth said, approaching me. Lydia hung back with the other men.

"What is this that the men are saying about Dragonborn?" I asked.

"They're talking about you. What you did just now hasn't been seen in hundreds of years. You absorbed the soul of a dragon and used its power to Shout."

I turned my head so that I was facing the tower, repeating the word which I couldn't help but shout. Another shockwave came with it, and several of the bricks on the lower part of the tower were knocked out of place.

"Return to Jarl Balgruuf immediately," the Dunmer said. "By now his watchmen are probably already reporting all of this, but he'll want you to tell him more. Lydia, go with him."

We nodded our heads, not wasting any time in returning to Whiterun. I lead the way, completely ignoring the beaten road as I forged my path. Lydia didn't seem appreciative of this, but it was the least I could do to someone who had given me the cold shoulder on more than one occasion. The wolf-hound didn't follow us, but it watched for a minute before running off into the distance in the opposite direction.

Just as we were reaching the exterior gates, there was a sudden thunderous noise, and Lydia and I ground to a halt. It seemed to be coming from a mountain in the distance towards the east, almost like it was calling to someone.

"What was that?" I asked.

Lydia, of course, gave no answer, and we continued our sprint.

"Wait! Are you Gio Dragonsbane?" a man called to me as I flew past him.

I skidded to a halt, Lydia nearly running into me.

"I am," I said.

The man nodded his head, handing me an envelope. "Here, I was entrusted to deliver this letter to you by an anonymous person. That's all."

The courier continued on, and I slid the envelope into my bag. I could read it later.

I didn't bother stopping at Warmaiden's or for anyone, Lydia and I making a mad dash for Dragonsreach.

We erupted through the double doors into the keep, and I continued towards Balgruuf on his throne although Lydia hung back a little ways, though she still approached.

"Forgive me, Jarl Balgruuf," I said, interrupting a three-way argument he was having between himself, Proventus, and another man in crude iron armor. "But the dragon that raided the western watch tower has fallen."

"Yes, I heard," he said, sounding excited. "I also heard—quite literally—someone Shouting."

"I can take the honors of saying that that was me," I said.

"Of course the honors would go to a foreigner. How many centuries has it been since a Dragonborn has rose up?"

"I still say that the idea is ludicrous," Proventus said, earning a scowl and a growl from the large man in armor.

"Do you know what that thundering noise was outside?" I asked.

Balgruuf nodded his head. "It was the Greybeards, without a doubt. They were calling out to way, I wager. They probably heard you Shouting as well."

"Greybeards? What would these men want with me? Better yet, who are they?"

"Studiers of the Voice, the greatest power gifted to man by the gods. They have long been some of the only to have been able to effectively use the Voice, and for just as long have been tutoring the Dragonborn and any others who climb the Seven Thousand Steps to their temple High Hrothgar at The Throat of the World. Undoubtedly, they want you to come to them." He chuckled. "I'm jealous of you. It's been too long since I've climbed the Seven Thousand Steps, and the few times I made the trip weren't by invitation.

"But, as for the matters of your feat in defeating the dragon, I think a reward is in order." Balgruuf stood up from his throne. "I, Jarl Balgruuf the Greater, hereby name you, Gio Dragonsbane, Thane of Whiterun in recognition of your feats in valor and honor. I present you with the Axe of Whiterun as your badge of office."

He slid a snow-white axe from his belt, handing it to me. I accepted it graciously, caught somewhat off guard by the sudden formality.

"I also name Lydia Thundercaller your personal Housecarl."

He outstretched a hand towards Lydia, and my heart dropped for a second. But, then again, Lydia seemed as though she was seeing me in a new light quite suddenly. When she noticed me looking, she clamped her mouth shut and returned to her normal, placid appearance.

"Thank you, Jarl Balgruuf," I said. "I am honored."

"You should be," he laughed. "The title of Thane doesn't just get thrown around, you know. There's a house open in the Plains District as well. I believe it's called Breezehome. It isn't as large as homes such as the Houses of Clan Battle-Born or of Clan Gray-Mane, but it should be more than spacious enough for you alone. It may take until tomorrow before we can finish decorating it, however."

"You offer me more than I could ask for." I furrowed my brow. "But on the subject of these Greybeards. Do you think they'll be expecting me right away?"

"If they are, then they are fools. The only way up to High Hrothgar is on the other side of the mountain in Ivarstead, and the road there from Whiterun is harsh. You'll need training and supplies before you should make such a journey by foot, or even by horse, and you should rest after your fight with that dragon."

"I have something to offer you as well, Gio—er—Thane Gio," Farengar said, walking out of his study. He had an armful of books of various categories, some of which I recognized as spell tomes.

"What are these?" I asked, walking over to the table where he'd placed them. They were all on various subjects related to sciences and history, but others appeared to be simple storybooks.

"Just some old tomes and novels of mine. I have no use of them, and Faendal informed me that you seem to enjoy reading."

"You know Faendal?"

"Of course. He and I trade recipes on potions once every month or so. He spoke quite highly of you."

"I see. Well, thank you, Farengar Secret-Fire."

"Don't worry about those," Proventus told me. "We'll be sure to place them carefully within Breezehome. Why don't you explore Whiterun, get to know it a little?"

"Yes, I think I will," I said. I told everyone farewell—Balgruuf informing me that he would be sure to alert his men about my new title—before turning to Lydia. I walked her over to the doors at the front of the keep before turning to face her.

"So, explain to me: what exactly is a Thane?"

"The title of Thane is a great honor to receive," Lydia said, sounding genuinely impressed with me. "Only those who display great acts of courage and heroism are awarded with such a title. As a Thane, common guardsmen will know to turn a blind eye when you are near."

"And a Housecarl? What are your duties?"

"I am your sworn servant. I have given my word that I will protect you and your belongings with my life." Less enthusiastically, she added, "I am also sworn to carry your burdens, however heavy."

"Sounds good to me, I suppose. So, will you be accompanying me?"

"I am sworn to you, my Thane."

I nodded my head before remembering the letter I received. Curious as to what it said, I pulled it out of my pocket, reading it over. It read:

_I know who you are, Dragonborn. I heard about you Shouting. I also know about a great power that you might be interested in. It is hidden deep within Sunderstone Cave._

_Sincerely, a Friend_

"Cryptic," I muttered.

"May I ask what it says?"

I handed her the letter. "Whoever sent me this says that there is some sort of power inside Sunderstone Cave. What do you know about it?"

"Very little. Sunderstone Cave would almost be as a hard a trip as the one to High Hrothgar if it weren't that it's a straight shot there and that the roads are clear of anything save a few stray wolves or bandit raiding parties."

"Think it's a good idea to pay this cave a visit?"

"That is entirely up to you, my Thane."

I smacked the envelope against my hand thoughtfully.

"I suppose a little peak couldn't hurt. In a world of civil war and dragons, a little bit more power is welcome."

Lydia nodded her head, and I opened the doors to Whiterun and to my new future as Dragonborn, devourer of souls.

**End Chapter**

_Author's Note_: Word count: 6.5 thousand; page count: twenty-four. So, how did you like that chapter? Didn't post it as soon as I'd thought I would, but I'm relatively satisfied. And let me tell you: I have been waiting FOREVER to finally get Lydia into Gio's party. Now that she's here, it's time to test Gio's limits as he has to deal with her and her…just her. You guys know how Lydia can be. Jumping in the way of your dual cast Flames, giving away your position by charging an enemy when you're trying for a stealth kill… The list goes on and on. But, Review, Favorite, Follow, and enjoy the Fun Fact.

_Fun Fact_: I wrote this entire chapter on only two mugs of coffee.


	6. Chapter 6: Yol

_Disclaimer_: I **_DO NOT_** own the iconic gaming franchise The Elder Scrolls by Bethesda Game Studios nor am in any way associated with them or their affiliates other than through the purchasing of their various products.

_Author's Note_: So, time to have fun in the ol' Sunderstone Cave, eh? Can't wait. I remember it took me almost an hour before I could finally make it around the first trap, let alone make it all the way to the end and beat the fire— Sorry, no spoilers. But, this is definitely gonna be a fun one and will be the first true test of both Gio and Lydia's might. Enjoy, my children.

**Chapter 6: ****_Yol_**

Lydia escorted me around Whiterun first and foremost, introducing me to the Plains District at the lowermost level where the market (as well as Breezehome) was located, the middle Wind District (named because of the wind tunnel the buildings formed) that served as the main residential area, and **the Cloud** District (the highest point in Whiterun and as such the closest to the sky and the clouds) where Dragonsreach proudly stood.

We only made a short visit to my new home. It was quite fairly sized and right next door to Warmaiden's. It had two floors, with the first one being almost entirely open. The house felt larger in its emptiness, with only an unlit fireplace in the center of the room and the few pieces of furniture that had already been moved in. There was an extra room hidden in a corner underneath the stairs, and at first I thought it was a broom closet but I was informed that an alchemy and enchantment table from Farengar would be placed in there (along with brooms).

The second floor had a hallway with an open view of the first floor that led to two separate rooms. When you immediately went up the stairs and to the left was a small guest or servant's room of some sort, with only a lonely bed in one corner with a nightstand. Further down the hall was my room, much larger with a bed fit for two and storage chest. The men returning from the outpost had brought pieces of the defeated dragon with them as well, including its bones and some scales that had survived being incinerated, which were stored within the chest. Supposedly dragon scales made for the best armor in Skyrim, but even old Eoruld Gray-Mane hadn't the honor of saying he knew how to forge it.

Once we finished looking around, and I changed from my prison rags into a more suitable pair of trousers and tunic, we started shopping around town. We visited Adrianne first since she was so close, and she informed me that both the great sword (a less famous but still powerful one that she could only name as Frostbiter due to an inscription on its hilt) and my new suit of armor were done. She'd done an impressive job with the armor, making it from thin layers of plate steel. I put it on at the forge with Adrianne's help, finding it to be almost as weightless as leather armor, and after Lydia gave me a few good whacks with her sword, that it was also strong as any heavy banded mail.

"Nords like great swords, don't they?" I asked Lydia, looking back at Frostbiter.

"I prefer a sword and shield, but sometimes heavier weapons have their uses."

I tossed the great sword to my Housecarl, who caught it deftly despite its weight.

"My Thane, I can't this is yours."

"Yes, and you're mine as well, in a sense. Just think of it as me keeping my assets in one place."

"That was a really bad pickup line," Adrianne whispered to me as Lydia stowed the heavy blade.

"She's my Housecarl," I whispered back. "Nothing more."

The Imperial woman chuckled. "That's what Jarl Balgruuf says about his Housecarl."

We **continued** to explore the remainder of the market, picking up potatoes from Carlotta and venison from a meat merchant next to her stall, and I even allowed myself to buy a wheel of goat cheese from a little old Gray-Mane woman. At the General Store I didn't browse very long, only picking up a few spell tomes and upgrading Lydia's equipment some.

"I'm fine with what I have," she insisted as I tried to decide between two refined steel swords for her.

"Don't be ridiculous," I told her, selecting one of the blades. "That standard issue iron sword isn't going to cut it. I'd buy you some new armor as well, but I need to save the rest of my money for horses."

"You're looking for horses?" the Breton man running the store asked. "Check out Whiterun Stables just outside of town. The man there—can't remember his name for the life of me—raises some fine beasts."

I paid for the sword and tomes and potions that we had purchased before leading Lydia outside of the store. Lydia told me she already had some mead that we could drink along the way, so a stop at the Bannered Mare was unnecessary. We could go at once, if I was prepared.

"Better to go now," I said, "than wait until morning just to have to wait yet another day because I am sore."

Lydia didn't say anything to this, and we made way to the hold's gates, but we stopped when we spotted a pair of guards arguing with some men with dark hair and reddish skin.

"A'likr warriors," Lydia informed me. "Best we just leave them to the guards. They cause nothing but trouble. We don't have any proper evidence, but it's them who keep raiding our farms. They aren't welcome in Whiterun."

I listened in on the conversation. The Redguard men were saying that they were looking for some woman, but the guards wouldn't have it. I decided to step in.

"I can handle things from here," I told the men.

"Yes sir, Thane Gio," the men said simultaneously, returning to their posts on either side of the door. They looked ready to let fly at a moment's notice, but the two Redguard men didn't appear stupid enough to start anything with an entire hold's worth of men ready to fall on them.

"So, you're Whiterun's Thane," the man to my right said. "Well met."

"You said you were looking for a woman?" I asked them.

"Yes," the man said. His words were suave and liquid, almost as though he was trying to seduce me into his will. "A Redguard woman."

"What would she be doing in Whiterun?"

"She snuck her way in, most likely. You see, she's a wanted woman in the hold we come from. She probably snuck her way in, seeking refuge. Most likely she won't be using her real name and is keeping a low profile."

"Why exactly are you after this woman? What has she done wrong?"

"That is none of your concern," the man told me, the suave gentleness turning into a hiss. "All you need to know is that there's money on her head in Hammerfell, and we're paying for any information on her. If you do have any information, bring it to Rorikstead."

Without another word, the two men turned and left.

"I wouldn't bother with them," Lydia told me.

I grunted in response. If I figured anything out, I supposed it would be rude not to say, but I doubted I'd discover anything useful.

"We should be going, my Thane," Lydia suggested, and after I waited a moment longer so that the two men could get some ground ahead of us, we walked through the gates and headed for Whiterun Stables.

At the stable, after I'd made my request for two horses, the man running the stable said, "Sorry, sir, but I only have one horse available. But she's a fine steed fit for any man, be they soldier, commoner, or even our own Thane himself."

I looked at the horse that he was sitting next to and asked, "How old is your horse?"

He patted the farm horse's rump. "Allie here is seven. But she has spirit left, she does. She'd make a fine war horse. I was selling her for a thousand Septims, but for you sir, I'll half the price."

"I'd be a fool to turn that offer down," I said, already fishing out the necessary gold from my bag. "I'll take the horse. She'll earn a fine name under my ownership."

"I can't wait to hear the songs," the man said genuinely, accepting the coin and gesturing for me to take the horse.

I guided the horse out of its stall and onto the road, mounting it easily and fluidly. I scooted back in the saddle to make room and offered Lydia a hand up.

"I can walk," she assured me when she realized what I was doing.

"I'm not going to ride while you try to keep up on foot," I told her. "Hop up."

She glared disapprovingly at me but gave no further complaint as she accepted my hand into the saddle.

With a flick of the reins, Allie went into a trotting gallop. We were headed west in the direction of Sunderstone Gorge, with no time for detours or roundabout paths. Forward we went, following the winding the dirt road, past the fallen outpost and into land that I'd never been to before. I glanced down at Lydia, who was looking intently forward, and wondered if she'd ever even left Whiterun before.

"I'm still a relatively new Housecarl," she said suddenly.

"Excuse me?" I asked her.

"I only finished my training to become a Housecarl of Jarl Balgruuf little more than a month ago. I was practically born into my training. My mother and father had me join the training regiment when I was five. It took every Septim they owned, but they got me in."

"They must be proud of you."

"They're dead."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"It's fine. I hardly even knew them. Hardly even remember them. I hated them for selling me Balgruuf, but at the same time, I was so sad when the courier arrived with my inheritance. I wanted to make them proud, and so I became entirely oriented on my training. I graduated at the top of my class and was made a new Housecarl of Jarl Balgruuf himself."

"Your parents would have been proud."

"Aye, they would be. You would think that it would make me happy, but it didn't change the fact that they were dead."

"Now you're my Housecarl though. I'm sorry if this wasn't what your parents wanted for you."

"They'd be prouder to know that I am the Housecarl of the Dragonborn than if I were the Housecarl of any Jarl."

"Well, that takes a weight off my chest at the very least."

Lydia said no more, and neither did I. It crossed me that before she became my Housecarl she hadn't so much as bothered to look at me before. Now she was giving me her life story.

"We should take a break," Lydia suggested.

I noticed that Allie was getting tired and complied, drawing the brown mare to a halt. We hopped off her back, stretching out our legs. We separated a moment to relieve ourselves before returning to Allie, Lydia spreading out a roll as I got to work digging a pit for a fire. By the time the flames were up to a comfortable height, the evening star was in the air.

"So, do you know how to cook?" I asked Lydia, suddenly aware that with all the skills in swordsmanship that I'd somehow remembered, there was a complete blank on cooking.

"I will take care of any cooking, my Thane," Lydia assured me, going through our bags. She let out a quiet curse. "We forgot salt."

I reached a hand into my bag, pulling out a bowl of salt.

"Thank you," she said, accepting the bowl and laying it out with a venison steak and some potatoes. She deftly skinned and cut up the potatoes, then proceeding to dice the deer meat into little cubes with equal finesse. She produced a cooking pot, filling it at a little stream nearby, before hanging it from the cooking spit by the flames.

We waited silently for several minutes until the water boiled. Then, she dumped the potatoes and meat and salt all in together, stirring it all up as the boiling water slowly cooked the crude ingredients together. It was a beggar's meal, but my stomach growled hungrily nonetheless. It dawned on me that I hadn't eaten since Helgen, and probably for an amount of time before that even as well. I was also quite thirsty.

"Pass me the mead," I said, outstretching my arm.

Lydia picked up a bottle and tossed it to me. I uncorked it and tossed my head back, guzzling down the sweet nectar.

"Be careful," Lydia said distastefully to me. "Honingbrew is good, but it'll leave you drunk before you know it."

I ducked my head to stop the flow of amber liquid down my throat. It burned comfortably in my belly, and my thirst was relieved, but my senses were suddenly befuddled and I felt dizzy, almost as though I was about to fall over after spinning in a circle a dozen times.

"Great, now he's tipsy," Lydia grumbled.

"Is the stew ready?" I asked with a hiccup.

"Just a minute," she said. "And you'd better not try anything stupid with me. You can ask that old drunk who wonders around the Plains District how I respond to men who get too free with their hands."

"I'm not that drunk," I assured her. "But what do you do?"

She didn't say anything, only continued stirring the stew as it steadily grew thicker and thicker. As it began to steam profusely and I thought she might be about to burn it, she moved the pot carefully away from the flame and served the contents into our bowls. Allie was content with munching on grass and snowberries.

"Careful; it's hot," Lydia warned me as I burned my tongue on the food.

"Thanks for the spoiler alert," I said around my scalded tongue. After toying with my stew a minute, I asked her, "So why did you tell me that?"

"Why your food was hot?"

"No, about your parents."

She didn't say anything, didn't look at me. Finally, she surrendered, "Women tend to say things when a man's prick is pressing against her arse."

I spit out my stew.

"I'm so sorry," I said quickly. "I'd hoped you wouldn't notice. I didn't know what was happening, but after you mounted in front of me and the way that the horse was jostling us, I—"

"I'm only teasing you," she said with a laugh. "To be honest, I'd've been more worried if you stayed limp the whole ride. And as for my sob story, most of Whiterun knows it. I just figured I'd beat everyone else in telling you about it."

"I feel played," I said, but couldn't help but to touch my odd exterior organ curiously. "But I honestly didn't know what happened. I mean, I knew that it was there and all, but over the past two days since I woke up, I don't remember it doing anything like that."

Lydia grinned mischievously. "Oh, so you don't know anything about _it_ do you?"

"What're you talking about it?" I tried asking her, but she only chuckled slyly and ate her stew, acting as though I was being left out of some huge secret. By the time I'd finally given up trying to leech it out of her, I had to eat my stew cold.

We spread out our bedrolls, Lydia offering to take the first watch. I didn't object as I curled up in my fur sleeping bag, allowing myself to fade away into slumber.

_ten hours later_

I awoke to a gentle prodding on my cheek. I blinked my eyes opened, surprised when I saw Lydia hovering over me, looking exhausted.

"Good…morning?" I said, unsure of what to make of her. It suddenly dawned on me that she hadn't awakened me to take my watch.

"Good morning," she said sleepily. "A few stray wolves wondered by, but I managed to shoo them off."

"You don't look fit to shoo a hare," I said, sitting up in my bedroll.

"There were a lot of wolves." She grinned. "You slept like a log though. Allie had to come save me."

"You should have waked me up."

"It's just fine, my Thane. It is my duty to keep you safe."

"How are you to keep me safe if you can barely even keep your eyes open?" I asked of her, cupping her face in my hands. She had such pretty eyes, I realized, but black rings around them had altered their beauty. "You get some rest while I pack everything up. You can sleep in Allie's saddle the rest of the way to Sunderstone Gorge."

She rejected my invitation to rest, but couldn't put up much fight as I wrapped her up in my bedroll. Immediately I set to work bagging supplies, burying the fire pit, and saddling up Allie. It took the better part of an hour, and probably would've gone by much quicker with Lydia's help, but I couldn't allow myself to have her help when she'd exhausted herself for me so already.

Delicately, I pulled Lydia from the roll and folded it up as well before nudging her awake.

"We're ready to go," I said informatively.

She rubbed the sleep form her eyes, sitting up from the dirt. Her hair was strewn with grass, but I chose not to say anything about it as I jumped up on top of the horse's back. I gave Lydia and hand up, and almost immediately she leaned back against my chest, her head resting on my shoulder at an awkward angle, and started to snore.

"Not much decency in Skyrim, is there?" I thought aloud, spurring Allie into a slow canter.

We continued forward with little excitement. I kept a steady eye on the horizon, sniping any wolves before they got too close from the saddle. A traveling bard offered me and my "lady friend" a song, but I denied him and continued onward. Before long, we were cresting a ridge when I came across three elf-like individuals traveling by foot with avid determination.

"Hail, travelers," I greeted them. "Can I ask where you're headed?"

"That is none of your concern, foreigner," the leader—a woman—said coldly. "We are on official Thalmor business."

_Why is it always foreigner?_ I thought, and then aloud, "Forgive me, I meant no disrespect. But can I ask who you are?"

"I am a Thalmor Judiciar. Now, if you will excuse me from your pestilent questions, as I afore mentioned we are on important business."

Without a further word, the three continued forward. The two male elves following after were stone-faced, completely unreadable. I remembered Ralof saying something about the Thalmor being a race of high elves. I couldn't help but wonder if all of them were like this.

After another hour or so of traveling, I came across a group fighting with each other. All of them seemed hostile, and I immediately woke Lydia and we dismounted the horse.

"Forsworn," Lydia said, pointing to the more raggedly, tribally dressed men and women. "The others are orc hunters. Both are unlawful factions known to attack anyone aggressively, but it's the Forsworn we should be worried about."

The Forsworn outnumbered the orc hunters two-to-one, but the hunters managed to take down two of them and injure a third. Immediately, they spun around to face us and started flinging threats our way, telling us to back off from their territory.

"What do we do?" I asked Lydia.

"If we turn our backs to them, they'll just shoot us down. Might as well engage them."

Without another word, I drew Dragon Tongue and Elder Reaper, Lydia producing her own steel sword and raising her shield, and we engaged the Forsworn. The tribal warriors seemed taken aback by our attack, but engaged us with equivalent ferocity. I had to commend them for their ferocity and likewise use of dual blades, but their exposed flesh made for too easy a victory.

"I'm wide awake now," Lydia informed me after we finished looting the dead. We'd come up with some orcish bows and arrows and various other weapons of mass destruction form the hunters, but the Forsworn had little to offer besides a fair amount of gold.

"We should be going then. How much farther until we reach Sunderstone Gorge?"

"It should actually just be around this bend, if your map is accurate."

We remounted Allie, and I spurred her into a gallop. Sure enough, as soon as we rounded the mountain, the mouth of a cave yawned open in the side of a cliff face.

"Sunderstone Gorge?" I asked.

"Sunderstone Gorge," Lydia confirmed.

We dismounted Allie, and I started to tie the horse off when Lydia stopped me. She said that Skyrim horses were loyal, and if Allie were to run off it was most likely for her own protection. So, we entered the cave, our weapons in their sheathes but we still ever cautious.

"I here talking," I whispered, stopping before we'd hardly even entered the cave.

The words of whoever was inside were only faintly audible as they echoed down the stone corridor to our hears, but I could make out the words of a woman saying she was going to get back to work and then footsteps heading our way.

"Hide!" I hissed urgently to Lydia, pushing her into a shelf in the wall and producing my bow.

A woman—maybe Nord or some other race—passed by in front of us, oblivious to our presence. She had shortcut white hair and wore a black robe. She didn't carry any obvious weapons, but she exuded an ominous and unholy power.

Without second thought I loosed an arrow, and it flew through her throat. She gurgled softly, crumpling to the ground. I was personally impressed with the stealthy kill.

"Excuse me," I heard Lydia's muffled voice say behind me. I looked over my shoulder at her, finding that I'd crushed her up against the wall behind me in my haste.

"Sorry," I said, moving out of her way. She stepped from the shelf, drawing her sword. She looked irritated with me. Oh well.

"There's still someone else ahead," I stated, notching another arrow and creeping down the corridor. I peeked around the corner and spotted another woman dressed similarly to the other one. Her back was turned to me, and an arrow in the small of her back made for a quick kill.

"I don't see anyone else," I said, slinging my bow over my shoulder and starting down the sloped cave floor to the campfire where the woman had been sitting at.

"Okay, but be careful, my Thane. These sorts of places have lots of— Uh-oh."

There was a _ker-thunk_, and I turned to see Lydia staring at a pressure plate on the ground she'd just activated. There was a rumbling sound, and all of a sudden the wall at the top of the slope exploded outwards, sending boulders and large stones hurtling towards us. The first two or three that connected with my body I'd managed to stand down, but the rocks just kept falling and soon I was buried in rubble.

"Way to go, Lydia," I moaned, struggling under the heavy debris. My armor had resisted startlingly well against it, but I was still pretty banged up and pinned.

Finally after a little bit of wriggling I managed to push a boulder away from my face, only to be greeted by a chattering skeleton. It hissed and raised its blade to strike me but was stopped short when an arrow struck it in its side and it crumbled into a pile.

I looked to see Lydia with her longbow raised, looking much more banged up than I but still alive.

"See, I'm not entirely useless," she said painfully, managing a small grin.

"Yeah," I agreed. I pulled a potion from my bag and tossed it to her before uncorking another for myself. "Drink up."

After we finished unburying ourselves we got to work examining our armor. My arm guards were badly dented from deflecting away the first few stones, as was virtually all of Lydia's. She couldn't understand how her heavy steel had been more damaged than my lighter armor, and all I could do was compliment the Warmaiden's mastery in smithing.

"These won't be doing me any good," I muttered, pulling off my bracers. I opened up my satchel and stuffed them in, and as always, it swallowed them up despite only appearing big enough to fit one.

"How did you do that?" I heard Lydia asking.

"How did I do what?" I asked back.

She squinted at my bag.

"Here, let me see that," she said, pointing to my bag.

I complied, handing it over to her. She examined it closely before sticking her hand inside and pulling it back out, along with a breastplate.

"I don't believe it," she said. "My Thane, can I ask where you found this?"

I blinked at her. "Uh, I don't know. I think I picked it up back at Helgen. I can't remember. Why?"

"Because this is a sage's satchel, a truly rare artifact. They're also called wizard purses amongst and some other names, but it all has the same meaning. They're just like an ordinary bag, only you can stuff just about anything inside of one of these, provided you can bear the weight."

"Interesting," I said, receiving the bag and breastplate back from the woman. "So, I take it these things are valuable?"

"Indeed they are, my Thane. The only man I know of who still knows how to make a sage's satchel is the court wizard of Emperor Titus Mede II. And the bags he makes are only distributed to the emperor's council and his staunchest war generals. The only way to get one is to join the council or the emperor's army, or hope you're lucky and find one lying around in an old ruin or dungeon somewhere."

"I'll be sure to keep this close, then."

After looting the dead women for nothing more than a few stray septims, we continued down a narrow path in one of the walls. Lydia had insisted on taking the lead, keeping her shield up in front of herself and effectively creating an impenetrable wall to any who might greet us in the narrow pass.

"I hear another skeleton," she murmured to me, and we dropped into a crouch. I produced my bow, motioning for Lydia to keep me covered. We peeked around a corner, finding a skeleton to be standing in the middle of a small room. I shot it over Lydia's shoulder, and it crumbled.

"Nice shot," Lydia complimented me, standing back up and continuing into the room.

"Thanks, but try not to set off anymore traps."

"I'll be careful," she assured me before an altar at one end of the room caught her attention and she started toward it. "Hey, what's that? It looks like some sort of— Not again."

There was another click, and suddenly a mammoth skull suspended on ropes swung down swiftly at Lydia, sweeping her off her feet and sending her flying onto the steps of the altar.

"Lydia!" I exclaimed, rushing towards her and crouching at her side. I was already pouring red potion down her throat.

"That was embarrassing," she said, standing up. Her armor had efficiently stopped most of the blow. "Where did that thing even come from?"

I looked at the wall the skull had swung down from, noticing a slot in the wall. I examined it, finding a locking mechanism that would have held the skull in place along with some unfamiliar potions a decent amount of coin.

"I'm not sure if you're good luck or bad," I said good-naturedly to Lydia, jostling the bag of coins where she could see, smiling wider than I ever had in the past days since I woke up. Lydia looked away from me.

"You should probably lead," she said softly, looking down the next corridor.

Not sure how to respond, I simply continued forward. The second corridor wasn't as long as the last and completely straight, and we soon were upon a second long room. I heard the chattering of another skeleton, and I shot it around the corner, along with a large rat. Lydia whispered something about hating skeevers, and I figured that that was probably what the rats were called. Everything seemed to be bigger in Skyrim, I realized. Bigger spiders, bigger rats, bigger lizards…

"Wait," I said, holding up my hand. Some of the rainbow-colored fuel-like the stuff from Bleak Falls Barrow was on the ground, and I could barely see a pressure plate submerged beneath the liquid. Cautiously I pressed my foot on the plate, and I heard a click and a crash. I looked left and saw a wall of multicolored flame racing across the floor towards me.

"Back off!" I cried, spinning on the ball of my foot and tackling Lydia to the ground just as the gas-fueled flames erupted in front of us.

We stayed on the ground like that, me lying protectively over top of her, for several seconds as the flames consumed the last of the fuel. As the flames subsided, I propped myself up, looking down at my Housecarl, who was looking a little dazed.

"Are you okay?" I asked her.

"You can get off me now," she said. I could've sworn she was blushing, but she pushed me away before I could really tell.

"Sorry," I said. "Guess I'm not much better at avoiding traps than you are."

She didn't say anything, and we rose to our feet, stepping into the long room. Down the hall there were crude structures set up, and more of the people in black robes. It was too dim for them to see us, but I had a clear shot at two of them.

"Any idea who these people are?"

"Mages without a doubt," Lydia said. "I've heard rumors that spell casters who specialize in fire magic and necromancy reside here, and that they worship some sort of fire god. They're evil."

"Good, because I'd feel bad about killing those last two."

Without another word, I sniped the two mages. They dropped like sacks of potatoes, but when I killed the second, I heard surprised exclamations. Deciding that the time for stealth was over, I produced my swords from their sheathes and Lydia drew her own steel blade.

We continued forward into the shadow of the wooden structures, greeted immediately by a tall man wielding a staff.

"You never should have come here!" he shouted, raising his stave into the air. A column of ice shot from the top of the stave, arcing right for me. I raised Dragon Tongue to counter it, the blade's blazing energy countering the frost.

"I thought you said they were fire experts," I said to Lydia, advancing on the mage and cutting him down with Elder Reaper. As his life left his form, I could feel the gemstones in my pocket begin radiating power.

I produced one of the stones that formerly had been dull and lifeless, which now hummed like the others.

"A sage's satchel full of soul gems," Lydia muttered. "You're just full of surprises, aren't you, my Thane."

"I guess so," I responded. I would have asked what she meant by soul gems, but couldn't as two more mages rushed us. Cutting the two of them down was easier than the first, and their corpses were left burning in their robes from Dragon Tongue's power.

"I see a ramp up ahead," Lydia informed me, starting forward, but stopped cold when something clicked under her foot. This time, a spiked grate like one that I'd been caught by at the Barrow swung around, pinning her against the stone wall.

"Lydia!" I exclaimed, catching her as she fell after the trap swung back into place.

"Damn, that's going to bruise," she muttered, clutching at deep wounds in her chest.

"Just hold on," I said, my voice shaking as I retrieved the biggest potion I had from my satchel. I uncorked the glass vial and Lydia drank from it, red liquid dribbling from the corners of her mouth. She sputtered, and I pulled the vial away.

"Just give me a second to catch my breath," Lydia told me as I sat her down.

"Do you think you'll be alright?" I asked her as she stood back up from the ground.

She examined the holes that had been punched through her breastplate. "I'm fine, but my armor is ruined."

"I told you we should've bought you something better."

We started looting the area and the dead mages. We came up with plenty of gold, as well as some stray alchemical ingredients. I'd also given the stave to Lydia, since she didn't claim to know any magic. She insisted that true Nords didn't need to use magic, but I made her take it anyway. Before long, we were continuing up the ramp and across a wooden bridge into another room.

Lydia was muttering to herself as we snuck down the shadows of a hall. There was another mage that I was preparing to dispatch silently from afar. The Nord woman sounded as though she was rehearsing, but I couldn't hear much more than a few stray words.

"What are you mumbling about?" I asked her, standing back up after I shot the mage and continuing carelessly forward. I noticed a flash from the corner of my eye and froze from my shock as a column of red flame blasted right for me.

"Gio!" I heard Lydia cry out. Something grabbed my elbow, and I was yanked back just before the flames reached me and I was suddenly on the ground, this time with Lydia on top of me.

"Déjà vu," I said, looking up into Lydia's emerald eyes, and suddenly finding myself transfixed.

"There's a soul gem trap just around that corner," Lydia said, standing up off me and looking away. "The only way to avoid being fried by it is to sprint by before it can cast its magic. Or, if you think you're fast enough, you could try to remove it from its pedestal."

"What is a soul gem anyway?" I asked her.

"Soul gems are odd crystals which can trap a person's life essence within them. The soul held captive within a soul gem can then be used to empower spells or enchantments to weapons or armor, as well as increase the effectiveness of enchantments to your gear."

"Morbid," I muttered. "I think I'll try for that gem though. They could come in handy."

I crept over to the corner. Bracing myself, I deftly leaped around it, swiping for where the gem was on its pedestal. I failed to grab it properly, but I knocked it down and kept it from blasting me.

"Not exactly a ten-point attempt," I said, "but it worked."

"Let's just keeping moving. The deeper we go, the more dangerous these traps seem to become."

We continued for many minutes, killing mages and necromancers and the occasional skeever as we continued down into the depths of Sunderstone Gorge. Soon, we were standing before a heavy set of double doors.

"Keep low," I told Lydia. "There's probably a whole bunch of them inside. Get your bow ready."

She didn't object, and we crouched on opposite sides of the doorframe and slowly opened them wide. Inside, there was a platform spread out before another rose up above, a large bonfire burning in the center. I could smell burning flesh and blood, but only two mages were present. Fluidly, we shot them at the same time.

"That's it. I don't see any other way forward," I said, entering the room, stopping just before the first raised platform. "I was expecting some sort of lethal guardian."

"Maintain vigilance, my Thane," Lydia advised. "There's sure to be plenty of traps in here."

"No, I don't even think they expected anyone to make it this far. Come on, what's the worst that could— Oh no."

As I stepped onto the platform, the tile under my foot clicked and the fire raging in the center of the room flared up menacingly. Within, I could make out a humanoid shape stepping from the flames.

Except that the _thing_ that approached was more demon than human. Its entire body was a living flame, and two great horns towered above its head. It appeared feminine, but somehow I knew that it was only the avatar for something much more hideous.

"A flame atronach," Lydia said gravely. "You asked for a lethal guardian, didn't you?"

"Guess I jinxed it," I agreed. "But we'll be just fine. Fus!"

A shockwave blasted from my mouth, impacting the demon noticeably. In fact, it seemed to be more effected than anything else I'd ever used the Shout on before.

"See that? We can still kill this thing. Alright, let's hit it!"

I put way Dragon Tongue, knowing that its fire element would probably only have the reverse effect on the creature. I also put way Elder Reaper, replacing the both of them with the axe and shield I'd used to kill the dragon at the Western Watch Tower. Lydia produced Frostbiter.

"Thanks again for the sword," Lydia grunted as she slashed at the atronach, which danced nimbly away.

"No problem," I said, jumping in her way as the monster shot a fireball at her, dispersing the flames with my shield.

"So, where did you find it anyway?" Lydia asked, successfully making a deep gouge on the demon's side.

"Some old ruins north-northwest of Riverwood," I said, staggering the atronach with a shield bash. "It was called Bleak Falls Barrow."

"Bleak Falls Barrow? That's a bandit stronghold. Whiterun has sent dozens of men to try and flush them out."

"The bandits weren't the only problem," I informed Lydia, successfully hacking off one of the atronach's arms, causing it to scream sharply and blast a blazing silhouette of itself at me. "Once you get past the bandits, you hit the draugr and frostbite spiders. I looted these swords from the former."

"You don't say," Lydia said, shouting the last word as she swung heavily at the atronach, cleaving it in half and embedding her great sword in the stone tiles.

"Not bad," I said, lowering my guard as the atronach crumpled to the ground in halves. Just as I was about to do my victory dance, the party was over as it exploded and sent both me and Lydia flying.

"That was dirty!" I moaned, rubbing the back of my head where I'd smashed it against a stone.

"Forgot that atronachs did that," Lydia muttered.

"No joke."

I stood up from the ground. I retrieved my axe which had flown from my hand and stuffed it and my shield back into my satchel. Lydia returned Frostbiter to its scabbard across her back.

"Come on; let's find that great power before it blows up again," I said, kicking at the red ash left where the atronach had been.

"Okay. Let me collect some of that though. It's fire salt. Farengar might like to have it to experiment with. I doubt he's seen much of it in his research."

"I'd rather see what it would do in your stew. Might give it a little bit of an extra kick."

I continued exploring the room while Lydia shoveled up the fire salts. On the second platform were several corpses of elves, Nords, and other humans alike, all of them on sacrificial altars and tables. At one corner of the platform I saw something glowing, and the closer I drew, it seemed as though a sort of chanting was ringing from somewhere.

I found a stone monolith engraved with alien runes just like the one from the Barrow. And like with the one at the Barrow, one word was glowing a radiant blue color. And I read it as _yol_. Fire. Raw, destructive power manifest.

"What did you find, my Thane?" Lydia asked, stepping up next to me.

"I'm not sure," I said honestly. "There was something like this back at Bleak Falls Barrow, though."

"I think I heard Farengar talking about something like this once. He called them word walls. He said that the language of the dragons is inscribed on them, although the few that he's found he hasn't been able to successfully translate."

I pointed to yol. "That one is fire." I noticed that fus was also present. "That one is force."

"You can read the dragon language? Wait that makes sense. The Dragonborn can speak dragon. Why shouldn't he be able to read it? But why only those two words?"

"I really can't understand," I admitted. "I just sort of _know_."

"That's reliable, I guess."

I looked around the room for any faster way out than the long way that we'd come. At one side of the room there was a gate, and after a few chain pulls we were in the room with the soul gem trap.

"It won't be long now and we can return to Whiterun," I said aloud as we made our way back out of the cave.

"Indeed," Lydia said.

_a day and some hours later_

"Ah, Thane Gio. It is good to see you again," Balgruuf greeted me from his throne. "I was worried. You didn't inform me that you were leaving the city."

"My apologies, Jarl Balgruuf," I said earnestly. "But I was exploring Sunderstone Gorge along with my Housecarl. I'd received a letter informing me that some sort of power was within its depths."

"And did you find this power?"

"Indeed. And we also eliminated a cult."

"That is good to hear, Thane. Forgive me for my curiosity, but what form of power did you find?"

"A new Shout. I devoured the soul of a dragon along the way back, if you'd like to see an example of it."

"No, that is quite alright. The servants just finished cleaning the keep. And I offer my apologies, as Breezehome is still yet habitable. I'm afraid that after many years of being unoccupied, termites and other pests have invaded it and many of the walls and floorboards need replacing. For now, you'll have to rent a room at the Bannered Mare."

"That is fine, my Jarl. I will be going now."

"Of course, Thane Gio. And once again, my apologies. Tell the innkeeper there that I sent you, and she might give you a price cut."

"Jarl Balgruuf, permission to speak," Lydia said suddenly.

"Of course, Lydia," the Nord man said. "What have you to say?"

"I'm afraid that I may be yet inadequate for my Thane. While we explored the recesses of Sunderstone Gorge, his life was in jeopardy more than once, and I was oft the one who placed him in such peril due to my own negligence. I would ask—for my Thane's sake—you revoke my position as his Housecarl for someone more capable."

"Lydia, I do not understand," Balgruuf said. "You were at the top of your class. Even though you are yet new as a Housecarl, you rival even Irileth in raw talent. But, if you truly believe you are unfit, I will accept your request."

"Jarl Balgruuf, I have something to say," I said.

"Of course, Thane. Is this on the matter of Lydia's request?"

"Indeed it is, Jarl."

"Then go on. I'd like to know what exactly happened."

I nodded my head. "Yes, I will agree with Lydia my life was in peril more than once. Nearly as soon as we entered the Gorge she sprung a trap which buried us in rubble. Thanks to the armor forged for me by Adrianne Avenicci." Proventus seemed proud of this. "And just as I was about to unbury myself a skeleton attacked, and would have killed me while I was pinned had Lydia not saved me from it. From then on she activated several deadly traps, but if she hadn't set them off then I probably would have. And when one trap had almost got me, it was Lydia who pulled me out of harm's way. And then there is worth mentioning when we fought a fire demon at the end of the dungeon, which without the help of Lydia I could not have hoped to have killed. And then not to mention the dragon that the soul of which I had devoured was felled by Lydia's arrow."

Balgruuf looked over at Lydia, looking amazed. "Is that so? Lydia, I thought that you mentioned that you'd endangered your Thane's life. It sounds to me as though you are a hero of his life. Did this all truly happen as was described by Thane Gio?"

"It did, my Jarl."

"Then Lydia, Housecarl of Thane Gio Dragonsbane of Whiterun, it would seem as though you have performed feats unlike any other in Whiterun. But if you truly believe that you are unfit to serve your Thane, I will carry out your request."

"Jarl Balgruuf, with all due respect," I interjected, "but I will not accept anyone to be my Housecarl aside from Lydia Thundercaller. She has proven herself to me as a valuable ally and friend."

Balgruuf seemed somewhat shocked, and when I looked over my shoulder at Lydia, her own placid expression painted over with amazement.

At last the Jarl chuckled and said, "I see, Gio. I can understand you standpoint. For me, none could replace Irileth. She has proven herself to me more than once. Lydia, hearing what your Thane has to say, would you still press at your request?"

Lydia was still looking at me in astonishment. Finally she said, "No, my Jarl. I would continue to serve Thane Gio Dragonsbane and to give him my life if need be."

"So be it. Unless you have any more matters that you wish to discuss, the two of you may leave now."

Lydia gave a steep bow and I a more slight one before we turned on our heels and left Dragonsreach.

Outside and out of the hearing range of the guards on duty at the keep's entrance I turned to Lydia.

"Back at Sunderstone, when I almost was caught by that soul gem, you didn't call me by my title. You called me by my name."

"Forgive me, my Thane," she said stoically. "It will not happen again, I swear."

"Actually, I'd much prefer it if you called me Gio. It's shorter than 'my Thane,' and all this formality gives me a headache."

"If that is what you wish, my Thane."

I shook my head. "We have a lot of work ahead of us."

Lydia grinned slightly before swiftly hiding it again and I gave a soft snort. I had a feeling that we had a long journey ahead of us.

**End Chapter**

_Author's Note_: Ugh, forgive me for the late update, but I've been crazy busy. Anyways, I had fun writing this chapter, and I hope you have fun reading it. Word count is almost 8k, and close to twenty pages. Is that a record? I think that's a record. Anyways, thanks to my reviewers, followers, and favoriters, but I have more than two hundred views last I checked and only fifteen favs, follows, and reviews combined, so you all better get cracking. Anyways, here's the Fun Fact.

_Fun Fact_: I got nothing. Well, good place to say that Frost Emblem: Re-Animated will soon be going live. Keep your eyes open. 'Til next time.


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